In purSuit
by Tinkering-Lady
Summary: The peace over Deck was fake. It was restraint, forced. The calm before the storm. Then came the catalyst that finally broke the tranquility that the Royals clung to; the Jokers. Missing Suits in Spades, overpopulation in Diamonds, unrest in the Clubs and rebellion in Hearts were the last of their worries when the King of Spades is missing and the Jack of Hearts has strange dreams.
1. Prologue - The Queen's Ails

**Prologue**

**Heyyyy soooo I'm still alive and I didn't like how the story was going so I started over. Sorry about any inconvenience, but with the way the story was going, I wouldn't have been able to do a bunch of things that I wanted to happen in later chapters.**

**If this is your first time, then enjoy:)**

**If not, the plot is pretty much the same as the first time. This is just better written with a style that sounds like my other stories. I did change some details in this rewrite but nothing major so far. **

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_"Hell is empty. All the devils are here." -William Shakespeare, the Tempest_

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**The Queen's Ails**

As the kingdom below laid its head in a vain attempt to find rest, the castle fought through sleep and exhaustion. Servants and other castle staff raced through the halls on the whims of their superiors. Many carried candles to the darkening offices, others brought refreshment to tiring minds, while some were sent to carry messages to other parts of the castle. Their superiors were pushing their own limits to carry the kingdom on their shoulders and, in turn, they would not stop aiding them. However, they did stop when they saw him.

He was a slender man with average features. However, with his back straight even as he glided through the corridor and the way he held his torso, one can't help to notice the importance this man held. Add the regalia of a long purple coat over a blue vest, a large ribbon over his throat, and black trousers tucked into brown shining boots, he was clearly someone of great importance.

This was Arthur Kirkland—powerful and effortlessly elegant, an innate gentleman. From former Emperor of Deck to Black Sheep of Suits to Conqueror of the North to Forerunner to the West, he has earned many titles. But most important of all was the Queen of Spades.

He had scorned the title when he had first obtained it, fueling more insults from his elder brothers. But the rankings of the Suits—from Kings, Queens, Jacks, Aces, to the numbers—were based solely and power, not gender or class. Nor was there an option to refuse once Signed.

He strode purposefully, barely showing his acknowledgement to those bowing before him, from castle staff to other Suits, as he passed them by. In normal times, he would stop occasionally to converse with his people. In normal times, the Numbered Suit members would be in their respective provinces while the Lettered Royals kept with their business in the capital city. In normal times, he would asleep within these hours.

Lamentably, these were not normal times.

Though his citizens smiled, he knew they were forced. There was blade of tension held against the neck of Spades, and Arthur would make damned sure that every measure was taken to ensure the safety of his people.

However, there was one problem; the cause of the unrest was unknown to both the Suits and the people. The markets were running smoothly. There were neither plagues nor famines within their borders. There were no signs of rebellion. No other kingdom would dare invade them.

_What the bloody hell is going on?_ Arthur thought to himself frustratingly for the hundredth time that hour. He turned around a corner to the throne room where several village chiefs and lords waited with their grievances despite how late into the night it was.

Arthur pinched his nose. Usually it was the King's job to listen the grievances of his people, but the Spades were currently missing their King and Ace. A kingdom requires the full-force of the thirteen Suits to prosper. _Maybe that's the reason behind the unrest?_ The Queen quickly pushed that thought away. It didn't make any sen—

"Your Majesty," a voice rasped behind him.

"What is it?" Arthur snapped automatically, turning to the manservant dressed in the Spades blue motif.

"Jack Wang requests your presence in the Ancestral Library," the manservant said, unflinching to his Queen's constant sharp tone. "He insists that it is of the utmost importance."

Arthur eyed the servant's greying hair, forming wrinkles and strugglings to bow at the waist. The Jack is the is the ranking right below his. _Yao knows my schedule—if he's insisting, it must be more important than hearing the grievances. _"Very well," he sighed, dropping his shoulders slightly. He usually took his posture seriously in front of his subjects but the stress of the past few decades were beginning to take its toll on his body. "Are any of the council members awake?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Several have just finished a meeting with the merchants."

"Good, send them to the throne room to hear the grievances. Have them make apologies as well for my absence."

"Very good, Your Royal Highness," the man croaked.

Arthur cleared his throat. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but you are not as young as you used to be. Please retire for the night. There are plenty of other staff running around to send messages."

"Yes, Your Majesty Thank you," he rasped, trying to hide the relief in his voice but Arthur was already striding away.

_To send a man of that age to deliver his messages. Yao really wanted to catch my attention didn't he? _Arthur wondered angrily to himself. _And a human one at that!_

He growled slightly, making a poor maid jump from her curtsy. He mumbled a quick apology then picked up his pace. The manservant was old but was no where near the age of Arthur. He was many years older. _Centuries _and _millennia _older in fact. The thirteen members of a Suit did not age passed whatever age their kingdom needed them to be. It was the holy Hand's decision whether or not a member of the Suit has completed their service. Arthur himself was turning two thousand and seven hundred fifty-three soon. Or was it two thousand and seven hundred _sixty_-three? Yet he looked barely over two decades old.

He looked up and found himself in front of the library doors. He threw them open, and blinked as his eyes were plunged into the darkness. The curtains were closed, not allowing a single ray of moonlight in. It was too late in the night to keep the candelabras and chandeliers lit. Anyone who wished to visit it usually brought his or her own candles to see.

A single orb of orange light floated from the forest of shelves. "My Queen?"

"You shouldn't send an ancient man running after me with your messages. The poor bloke should have been resting by now," Arthur snapped.

"Someone of your age shouldn't be using the word 'ancient' so carelessly, aru," the Jack of Spades and old friend of Arthur's replied. "Isn't he practically an infant compared to you?"

Arthur stepped forward and found Yao Wang bowing to him. "You shouldn't be talking. Even at my age, I can still bloody call you ancient. _I _am an infant compared to _you._"

Yao stood straight and smiled. Even in the dark, Arthur could easily make out the older man's features. He was several inches shorter than the Queen and wore long robes of Spades blue whose sleeves fell well past his hands. Underneath was a black tunic that Arthur recognized as a type of mail that was incredibly light yet strong enough to save a man from a sword's tip. _Yao must have helped with training the new guards sometime today._

The Jack of Spades was the oldest of all the Suits that rule over the four kingdoms of Deck. He had experienced what other members of the Suits could only read or hear about. He is a skilled fighter and wise beyond his years. So it irritates Arthur to no end when his childlike tendencies rule over his personality. But this was the man that taught him the ways of the Suit and what he needed to look out for as the Queen of Spades.

Yao waved a hand. The orb of light, floating in the air, shone slightly brighter, illuminating more of the library. "Your Majesty, do you remember why this library is named as it is, aru?"

The Jack began to walk towards deeper into the forest of shelves. Curious yet irritated, Arthur followed him. "Because it was created by the first Suit of Spades eons ago. Because it holds what is left from their time and what will become of ours. Because it is the largest chamber in all the land. Because if those reasons were not the answer you were looking for, I don't give a bloody damn. I hope you did not bring me here to gander about history, half of which I've already learned and experienced."

"_Aiyah_, the stresses over are kingdom are dampening your already foul mood," the elder chuckled. "I ask because I need you to remember what this place was and is still used for."

_Holding tomes and scrolls_, was the first thought that entered Arthur's head as his boots made loud tapping noises in the deathly silence. The Ancestral Library was one of the greatest treasures of the Spades. It was priceless. Invaluable. An insurmountable amount of knowledge were held in the pages cradled in its shelves. Even Yao with his millennia of life has barely scratched the surface of all the knowledge it had to offer.

But words were not all it held.

Arthur opted to reign his tongue as the Jack led him deeper into the library. Yao's orb of magical light floated ahead, bobbing up and down in way that sent Arthur's head reeling. _Bollocks, when was the last time I had a good night's rest? Last month?_

Suddenly, the misshapen blots of blocks indicating the shelves disappeared. The Queen found himself following his Jack down a tunnel carved from stone. The tile beneath his feet disappeared to worn out rock. Their footsteps echoed louder in the enclosed space. Each step, like a clap of thunder.

The Jack stopped in front of a woven tapestry of the previous King and Queen. They were both females and had died long before Arthur was born. Songs of their feats were still performed in celebrations even to this day. But their real names were long forgotten.

As beautiful of a masterpiece it was, Arthur could not fathom what significance it held for the moment.

"Do you remember the order you gave me over a thousand years ago, aru?" Jack Wang asked, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

"A thousand years ago?" Arthur asked curiously. He had a great many adventures in his life. He had conquered armies, and in his pirating days, brought all of Deck into his empire. At his age, the memories begin to blend together. "Wasn't that during the northern savages' invasion?"

Yao nodded. "Iv—King Braginski's Trump Card failed against them. It was our armies, led by you, that saved the Clubs in the end."

"Or so the history books say. That was when we discovered the Jokers of our Suits' generation." Arthur looked Yao straight in the eye. "Each council gave the order to find the those Jokers."

"Yes, my Queen. And it wasn't until a few centuries ago that they were found."

"I don't remember which order you are referring to. A thousand years ago was a time of war. I'm sure I gave you a great many orders."

The Jack chuckled. "_Aiyah_, I do remember now. It wasn't a thousand years ago. Just a few centuries—when the two Jokers were caught by you and the other three kings."

"Yes, yes, and the Diamonds and the Clubs left their fates to me and the King of Hearts—"

"Because the Red Joker was the Hearts King's brother and the Black Joker was yours."

Arthur flinched, as if slapped.

"I apolo—"

The Queen grabbed the Jack's collar roughly. "I'm done with these bloody riddles. What is it that you have brought me here for?"

Yao remained calm despite sudden Arthur's anger. Without breaking eye-contact with his Queen, the Jack reached out and lifted the tapestry of the previous royals. Arthur fought not to wince at the crackling of the fabric—as a gentleman, he was a appreciator of the finer things in life, art being one of them.

He lost all thoughts and his grip on the Jack's collar as his verdant eyes found what was behind the tapestry.

"You gave me the jurisdiction in handling the Red Joker. I reported that we had him imprisoned but did not tell you where."

"Is this where you kept the Hearts King's brother?"

Yao nodded. "Take a look at that, milord."

Arthur glanced to where the Jack gestured. His blood froze. For his coronation nearly fifteen thousand years ago, the Clubs gave him a pair of locks constructed from the strongest metal they have mined—pluxyrian steel. When the Jokers were found, as the strongest Spell-wielder in all the Suits, Arthur was tasked with reinforcing them magically. They were indestructible and perfect to reign whatever chaos they could wreak over the lands.

Or so he thought. Arthur glared at the mangled lock on the cold ground, willing whatever illusions were playing at him.

"It's not an illusion," Yao said, somehow reading his mind. "I checked the magical trace. It was broken several hours ago."

"That's not possible."

"_Aiyah_, Arthur! The proof is right in front of you. How can you still deny it,?"

"Pluxyrian steel reinforced by my magic—"

"And now it's sitting on the ground like a spoiled brat's broken toy, aru."

At that, Arthur felt himself snap. "_Bollocks_! The whole bloody kingdom is at the point of shambles and now we have that tosser of a Joker running on the loose? Mighty fine cock-up that codger will make of things!"

It was a couple moments and plenty more swears later that Arthur regained control of himself. Jack Wang had stood quietly and patiently as the Queen vented. A wave of shame hit Arthur. _Queen of Spades, most powerful in all of the kingdom until the King is found, and here I am throwing a tantrum like a bloody brat._

He was about to apologize but bit his tongue—the very man before him had taught him not to show weakness, especially with a position as high as his.

"We do not know who did this, aru. Nor how—"

Arthur scoffed. "Yes, let's add that on to the list of things we, the mighty Suit of Spades, don't know. We can't find out why are people are unhappy. We can't find the rest of our Suit. We can't keep the Joker in—"

"_Queen Kirkland_," Yao said sternly. "Your orders, aru?"

Arthur removed his top hat and ran a gloved hand frustratingly through his aureolin hair. He scolded himself. _Losing control will not help anyone, especially not the people._

"Arthur—?"

"The situation has gone far graver with this escape," Arthur declared, waving his arm. As he did, several wisps of bluish light appeared. "The Spades Suit, in its current condition, is no longer befitting for its kingdom's needs."

Yao stood straighter as his Queen's voice grew more serious.

"The King of Hearts must be informed that his brother is at large. And if the Red Joker is free, the Black will soon be." He turned to the wisps of blue light. "Any Suit member currently in the castle is to gather in my office immediately. This order is to prioritize over any others."

The wisps flew away as Arthur then addressed the Jack of Spades. "Jack Wang, we have many issues to take care of. One of these Issues is our Suit—the completion of our Suit is now imperative in order to handle the others. I, Queen of Spades, highest power in all the land until the King is Signed and crowned, hereby relieve you, Jack Yao Wang, the Wise, of all other responsibilities."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Your one and only charge from henceforth until the task is complete, is to find the King of Spades. I've had enough of these rubbish attempts in finding him and his Ace. We all have. Finding them now prioritizes over all these other messes."

"Very good, my Royal Highness, aru."

Arthur summoned another wisp—a red one this time—and mentally drafted an apology to the King of Hearts as well as a request to meet with him in person. Before he voiced his message to the wisp, he shook his head. His shoulders dropped as he faced Yao.

"The kingdoms are beginning to crumble. The Jokers will be the catalyst for our destruction. And without our King, we—Spades—will be the first to fall. Now, _go._ Go and find that bloody git."

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**Questions? Comments? Concerns? Please review!**

**I'll do my best to message/write in the next A/N any answers!**

**I will try to update monthly on . On tumblr, I will post the chapters as I finish them.**

**Again, sorry please be patient because these chapters will take a while. That and exams are quickly approaching.**


	2. Chapter 1 - Into the Mountains

**In case you didn't read the A/N in the previous chapter, this story is under a rewrite. These are the new chapters that are being posted. The plot is pretty much the same but was very limited and not effective to what I plan to do in future chapters.**

**These new chapters are more detailed and more reminiscent of what I consider to be my writing style. If you haven't already, I recommend reading the "new" prologue before this chapter.**

**Anyways, sorry it took a long while and that this rewrite is actually happening. But I honestly believe that this rewrite will help in the future.**

**Enjoy:)**

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"When brothers agree, no fortress is so strong as their common life." -Antisthenes

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**Into the Mountains**

"Mattie!" Alfred yelled as he uprooted a fully grown juniper tree and lobbed it towards his twin. "Incoming!"

"You're supposed to warn me _before_ throwing it!" Matthew yelled back and jumped away as the tree crashed against the mountain floor in a storm of splinters and dirt.

"Did I get him?" Alfred asked excitedly as he made his way to his brother's side.

Matthew shook his head, brushing debris caught in his golden hair. "I don't think so."

The two of them stood back-to-back, waiting to see if their assailant would return. After several moments of listening for any unusual additions to the forest sounds, Alfred turned to his brother. "Looks like the poor sucker got scared off by my awesome strength."

Alfred let out a laugh as Matthew rolled his eyes and led the way up the mountain path. "He never stops, does he?" Matthew grumbled.

"You'd think he'd give up after nearly five centuries," Alfred replied.

From the isolation of Alfred's blacksmithing trade to the remoteness of Matthew's lumberjack profession, the twins have come to expect attempts on theirs lives on a monthly basis. It had began with Alfred receiving a rude awakening of a dangerously sharp blade pressed against his throat and Matthew bursting into his room. Since then, every month when the twins were alone, from their hunting trips to the mountains or the privacy of their home, the assassin would appear.

And every month, the assassin failed before disappearing in a cloud of colorful smoke.

Alfred and Matthew always fought back but never managed to harm the supposed assassin. It has been a never-ending cycle of trying to kill each other. And frankly, Alfred was getting tired of it. He was a bit pleased at first that he had managed to anger someone without even trying. But after several centuries, it tends to get old.

The mountains where they always hunted was where their mother had given birth to them. The very same one that served as the border between the western Kingdom of Spades and the northern Kingdom of Clubs, then spread into the other two countries. Alfred himself didn't keep up with the workings of the kingdoms—all he knew was that the mining kingdom of Clubs in the north were the largest country and had the most resources; the richest kingdom, Diamonds, was in the south; the most beautiful kingdom was the Hearts in the east; and the most powerful were the Spades in the west. He had also heard rumors of a temple serving as the heart of Deck in the center of the land but paid them no mind.

"So what are bringing home today, o' brother mine?" Alfred asked after several hours of silent hiking.

"Nothing if you keep talking so loudly," his soft-spoken brother answered.

Alfred snorted but said nothing. It was strange—there were no signs of animals around them. Not even a small bird or a rabbit, much less a great big buck that Alfred was hoping to bring to the market. In fact, the whole forest itself was eerily quiet. As they climbed higher, the wind began to pick up until it howled at them as if they were trespassers. Even with the heavy furs covering their bodies, the wind bit harshly at their skin.

"Let's go back down!" Alfred yelled over the wind. "There's more game closer to the foot of the mountain than here!" Matthew nodded his agreement and followed after him.

It was close to noon when they decided to turn back—Matthew had wanted to return hours ago but Alfred's pride kept them from doing so.

"We've never returned empty handed before," Alfred whined rather childishly.

"You're a blacksmith and I'm a wood-chopper. Hunting isn't really our job."

"Yeah, but we are the only one who would climb this high in the mountains. All the others are too afraid to."

"Have you considered that it might be because we would survive and they wouldn't?" Matthew retorted.

Alfred grunted. His brother was right—as usual. He had first noticed that he was _different_ from the other villagers when he carried out the first delivery orders of his blacksmithing business. He had gotten strange looks carrying a dozen barrels filled with steel products that each weighed as much as a man. Later that night, Matthew had told him a similar story—the other lumberjacks gawked at him for single-handedly carrying a log as wide as five men on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

The next obvious sign was his aging. There was a time when Alfred, who is the definition of a social butterfly, made friends with a small village boy over a discussion about flowers. But the next time he saw the boy, after a period of secluding himself in his forge to fulfill orders, the boy had grown to an old man who was astonished to learn that his blacksmithing friend hadn't aged in his lifetime.

The twins, afterwards, drifted away from the villagers, making as little contact with them as their jobs would allow. They rarely left their cabin home. Alfred's forge was a small walk from their home and Matthew could leave his quota of chopped trees at a spot for others to pick up at any time. The only reason they would leave their home for any extended period was to hunt.

A pungent smell hit Alfred's nose. Born and raised in these mountains for the past seven centuries, he and Matthew knew every feature—from scents to sounds—like the back of their hands. This was something new to them. Something very much unexpected. Rotten flesh soaked in _something _heavier and far more sinister.

He followed his nose and pushed through the foliage until he stumbled upon a seemingly innocent clearing of Anemones. The small field would have beautiful—had it not been for the scattered carcasses of various woodland animals, from small squirrels to great stags.

"Mattie," Alfred whispered, his body and mind in full alert. "That's a lot of dead _things_." He remembered that his soft-spoken brother had a soft spot for animals.

Silence.

He whirled around. "Mattie?"

Alfred found himself alone in the forest—well, except for the dead animals. Why did the air feel so heavy all of the sudden? _He was right here a second ago! Holy Hand, did the assassin get to him? _"MATTIE—!"

"I'm right here!"

Alfred, six-foot-tall blacksmith and part-time hunter, let out a shriek—a heroic one, of course. Consciously clearing his throat, he found his brother kneeling beside a dead doe with his mouth covered by a cloth.

"She was pregnant," Matthew said. The cloth muffled his voice but not the twinge of sadness in it. Alfred felt anger begin to boil in his stomach as he watched his brother press his hand on the doe's swollen stomach. "She was due in a couple days, if not the next."

"It was quick," Alfred pointed out, opting to stay away from the corpses. He eyed the gash across the doe's throat—the blood still poured out it. The clean cut through her throat spoke volumes—a quick kill, a serrated knife about seven inches long, a straight line with no sign of struggle from the animal. As if she didn't _feel_ her own death. This wasn't a hunt where death had a purpose, be it sport or survival. No, this was massacre. "And recent—"

"No, it wasn't."

Winter's biting cold was not an unfamiliar sensation to Alfred. But never in his seven hundred years had he felt a chill as mind numbing as the aura that seemed to emanate from his brother. There were several stories he had heard from his clients about the magical capabilities of immortals and how—Alfred shook his head, stubbornly refusing to believe such fairy tales. It was just anger. Matthew always had a cold and silent rage while Alfred had a loud and active one.

Alfred raised an eyebrow but Matthew didn't elaborate. He saw the evidence before him—a clean cut across the doe's throat and steaming fresh blood pouring from it—but something had his brother thinking otherwise. Alfred chose not to question him—it's not often that an enraged expression occupied Matthew's face. "But we do know who did this."

Within a second, the twins whirled around with their respective weapons pointed at a black clad figure who froze from its slow approach. Alfred held his bow steadily, but he couldn't ignore how Matthew's knife trembled slightly from what he knew to be barely controlled anger.

Instead of jumping into his barrage killing techniques, the assassin sighed softly and plopped down on the ground. This surprised the boys but did nothing to lower their guard even if the assassin had been unable to cause any significant physical harm to them.

"How long do you possibly think you can live in your pretty little mountains in peace?"

Now, this received quite the reaction from the brothers—Matthew flinched and Alfred almost dropped his bow. Yes, this was the first time that the assassin talked to them. Yes, it's the first time it actually acted like a human towards them. But it was the voice that completely threw them off. The _feminine _voice.

Her face, as always, was covered by a black helm, giving her a head an appearance of being comically round and big. She was wearing her usual shapeless tunic and robe, concealing any gender-defining features. She has always been short compared to them but the twins were taller than most of the other villagers they knew so this did not tell them much.

"I've been trying to kill you for centuries now—"

"Don't you think we know that?" Alfred yelled. Usually he was the more belligerent of brothers but he was the one holding back Matthew, enraged by the death of the deer, from charging the assassin. "And why the hell would you do that! We haven't done anything! Who are you and who sent you?"

"You were born," the assassin said as if it was an obvious fact. _Is her breath becoming visible?_ "The fact that you exist is enough reason for me to kill both of you."

"What the hell—?"

A blast of cold wind knocked them down flat on the ground. Except for Matthew. He blew past Alfred and drove his blade towards the assassin's head. The assassin had slipped on the now frost-covered ground and barely dodged Matthew' attack by sheer luck.

Alfred swore and sent several arrows flying at the assassin's vital areas. However, she had enough time to gather her wits. Alfred barely managed to duck before several blades sang through the air where his head had been half a second ago. _Those blades were faster than usual. Is she stronger?_ He quickly found his footing and used the frosted ground to slide down the slope of the mountain floor. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Matthew following the assassin towards the river.

With nothing better to do and refusing to lose sight of his brother, he struggled after him. The terrain grew more treacherous with the sudden appearance of a layer of frost. Ice covered the ground and crept up the roots of trees like silver ivy. Icicles formed from branches and roots, adding more danger to the forest.

Instead of the forest floor he was expecting to step on, Alfred's boot met with the slippery surface of frozen water. He fell hard on his backside then began to slide downwards to the river at breakneck speed. Windchill bit into his cheeks as he grappled for grip—which was nearly impossible at the speed he was going.

Alfred twisted his body, desperate to swerve around the tree that was racing towards him. But the merciless ice wouldn't let him. The air was knocked out of his lungs as his body impacted against a tangle of roots. A loud crushing noise filled his ears, and he desperately prayed to Hand that his ribs weren't the origin of it.

Ignoring the bitter taste of copper in his mouth, he clung onto the roots. He had concocted some sort of fantastical plan of sliding between his brother and the assassin, interrupting whatever fight they were engaged in, and saving the day. But the pain on his backside and the fact that he couldn't even stand on ice brought him crashing back down to reality.

"Screw it," he uttered to himself, his breath alarmingly visible. He spun on his back and planted his feet on a particularly flat side of a root. Mustering all the strength he could to his legs, he kicked off towards another tree. Sliding from obstacle to obstacle was a bit slower than Alfred had been going previously, but it did allow him a bit more control of his trajectory. Despite that, he was still flailing on his rapidly numbing backside until he heard the tell-tale sound of clashing metal.

On the bank of the roaring rapids of the river, Alfred could make out the battling figured of his brother and the black-clad assassin. He and Matthew were, by no means, amateur fighters. In fact, Alfred prided himself as one of the two best fighters in his village with Matthew being the other. But they were only able to fight off the assassin when they worked _together._

The signs were nearly imperceptible, but Alfred saw them on his brother. Slight delays in his steps. Brief hesitation in this attacks. Small tremors in his stance. Progressive lowering of his hunting knife. Fatigue was slowing Matthew down but had yet to touch the assassin. An she knew it.

Alfred reached towards his back. He swore, remembering that his bow had long ago flew from his hands when he first slipped on the ice. Without a second thought, Alfred kicked off the next obstacle straight towards them. He turned to his stomach and braced himself as he collided against the backs of the assassin's knees.

A surprised yelp and a satisfyingly loud thud came from her as Alfred scrambled for grip to stop his slide. He found it on the broad rocks flanking the rides of the river. Bone-chilling water sprayed over him as Matthew suddenly appeared by his side.

"I think you gave her a concussion," Matthew panted, barely audible over the pounding of the river. He held grabbed Alfred's arm and helped him to his feet.

Alfred no longer saw any anger in his brother's eyes, much to his relief. "Let's go before she gets up."

Matthew nodded and ran ahead, hopping from rock to rock and skillfully avoiding any ice. Alfred took a moment to rub his sore backside before limping after his brother.

"Al, DUCK!"

Alfred was already flat on the ground by the time Matthew finished his name. Several oddly shaped blades flew past over him as he crawled on the river bank. He twisted around and grabbed a flat boulder nearly his height in diameter. With a grunt, he pulled the boulder from its perch on the river side and lobbed it towards her.

"Come on!" Matthew yelled as Alfred heaved himself to his feet.

From the light footsteps somewhere behind them, Alfred knew that the rock he threw hardly did a thing. The air around them became warmer as the currents picked up speed on the river bend. An idea popped into his head as they broke through the trees. "Jump into the river!" Not a very bright one.

Matthew gave him an incredulous look. "Into those monster rapids? We'll be dead in seconds!"

Alfred glanced over his shoulder. The assassin was sliding and slipping towards them. He would've laughed if she hadn't that dangerous looking blade in her hands. _Where the hell did she pull that out of?_

He grabbed his brother's hand and charged towards the riverbend. "Alfred, wait! We could get killed—!"

Alfred pushed Matthew ahead and bent down to pick up a fist-sized rock then launched it at their assailant. He bought them several seconds. There was a flash of color near her neck. _Brown hair?_

Around the river was a large rock jutting into the water that the villagers had used as a starting point for a dam. Large trunks nearly Alfred's height in width were carved into points near the top and tied together side by side and stood as a gateway for the water. It rose several feet above the roaring waters. On the other side was a small waterfall that was about a thirty-second drop. The waters seemed to pound harder as the brothers approached.

"We should dive behind the dam!" Matthew yelled.

_Then she'll just follow us to the village,_ Alfred wanted to yell back, but a different sound had him swallowing his voice. His heart dropped when footsteps thudded beside him. He ducked just as a thin blade swung towards his face. He kicked at the ground, sending a wave of mud, rocks and twigs at her.

The assassin let out a very girlish yelp.

Alfred _almost_ stopped to make sure she was okay, but Matthew yelled at him to hurry. His twin started climbing the dam and threw himself over. "_Kumajiro!_" Alfred heard Matthew scream as he fell.

"That stupid bear isn't going to hear you!" Alfred screamed then froze.

_How did she get in front of me?_ Alfred's azure eyes were wide in horror as the assassin stood between him and the dam.

"You're the loud one, aren't you? The one that can give a better fight?"

"_Mattie isn't weak_," Alfred growled in reply. He could take a many insults that people have thrown at him but what he absolutely cannot tolerate is anyone insulting his own brother.

"No, he isn't," the assassin, replied, her lowered voice sounded unnatural, "and neither am I."

A strangled cry reverberated from Alfred's chest as she disappeared over the dam. "MATTIE!"

He bolted to the dam, cursing the hazardous terrain, and searched for his brother on the bank of a significantly calmer stream. The first thing that caught his attention was a big white blot and an almighty roar. _Well I'll be damned, the bear did show up._

Kumajiro, Matthew's pet white bear who has followed them around since they started wandering about at the death of their mother, was stalking a circle around the assassin. The assassin herself was on the defensive. Alfred couldn't blame her; he would be too if he was facing a six hundred pound beast.

Then he saw Matthew. Good ol' Matthew with his trusty hunting knife was riding on Kumajiro, like an ancient arctic warrior—wait, is that _blood?_

Alfred rubbed his eyes and squinted. He knew for a fact that Kumajiro was a _pure white_ bear. _So why the hell is there a dark stripe going down his middle? _The bear was moving normally—no limp was visible in its pace.

The river beside him was deafening but it was nothing to the tense silence on the other side of the dam. Until Matthew screamed. The knife flew out of his hand. Alfred didn't see whether or not it hit the assassin. He didn't care because the scream that he heard was not a battle cry, but one of pain. Because Matthew fell from Kumajiro's back and became a motionless heap. Because he can only see the red slowly surrounding his brother.

"_MATTIE!_" _No...no...he can't..._

That's when the assassin attacked. Even though the roaring of the river suffocated his ears, Alfred still heard Kumajiro's angry roar. He pushed down the rising panic from his gut and looked around for—

_Are those people down there?_

Sure enough, there were several carriages crossing the bridge not too far away from the dam. Trees kept them from seeing Matthew and the assassin. It looked like several blue carriages with blue flags. _Could that be one of the Suits that I've been hearing about?_

Alfred slapped himself and gazed at the scene directly below him. Kumajiro was over Matthew's unmoving form, no doubt glaring and growling at the assassin. Her blade glinted as she charged them.

"No!" Alfred cried. He won't let the assassin win. _Not ever._

He jumped down to the river. Near the edge, the brutally cold water only reached up to his waist, but the rapids battered his body against the dam. Alfred found purchase by clinging onto one of the perpendicular metal rods holding the trunks together. The idea in his head was even more suicidal than the previous one but, with the image of his brother's unmoving body imprinted in his mind, logic and common sense be damned.

Gripping the metal rod, he pulled. It came off quite easily due to Alfred's inhuman strength as well as the its weakened and rusted state. The trunks wobbled a bit but stood firm against the hammering of the river. Alfred desperately clawed at the wood, squeezing his arms between the trunks. With the last of his strength, he pulled the trunks part. Ignoring the pains of both his shoulders dislocating at the effort, Alfred let out a scream and the dam replied with a mighty groan.

Then it fell.

"Kumajiro!" Alfred yelled. "You better know how to freaking swim!"

He clung onto one of the logs as it descended down the waterfall. His insides slammed against his spine as ice-cold wind whistled past his ears. To Alfred, the drop seemed to last years before he hit the wall of water below. The log bobbed to the surface and Alfred gasped for air. He caught a brief glance of Kumajiro somehow pulling Matthew onto his back before being dragged back into the river. The currents were strong and Alfred felt his lungs burn. The treetrunk that he had clung to in hopes of staying afloat with was torn away from his arms. Stings of the fresh cuts sang on his arms when he felt something pull on the back of his tunic.

Then his head broke through the surface. Alfred gasped for air but found it difficult with water splashing into his face. He twisted around and found himself face-to-face with Matthew's white bear. Kumajirou's powerful strokes were slowly losing the fight against the currents.

"W-where's Mattie?" Alfred managed to choke out. He caught a glance of black a distance behind them before it disappeared in the water. No matter how strong the assassin was, there was near impossible chance for her survive the river. Unfortunately, the same goes for them.

Kumajiro grunted as its powerful legs defied the direction of the river flow. The white bear growled and Alfred found himself flipping through the air and landing painfully on something. Something that happened to his injured brother.

"Shit!" Alfred lifted himself off of Matthew as he groaned painfully.

A red stain from Matthew side practically screamed at him. Alfred used his body to keep his brother from sliding off the bear's back. With one hand gripping the white fur, Alfred pressed his other hand against his brother's wound in hopes of stopping the bleeding. Black spots began to cloud his eyesight. His shoulders screamed in pain. His head pleaded for rest. His body begged for mercy. _No, I can't pass out just yet. Not until Mattie is taken care of._

Praying to Hand that Kumajiro would be able to get them out of this mess, he clung onto the bear for both his life and his brother's. After what felt like a lifetime of being jerked around and toss from side to side, the violent surges and rocking gave way to a heavy trot then a thud. Alfred tumbled off of the bear's back and opened his eyes to see Kumajiro laying eagle-spread on the muddy bank of the river. He could see the rise and fall of Kumajiro's heavy panting. Its tongue stuck out of its mouth, its eyes barely staying open.

Alfred gripped one of his biceps, took a deep breath, and pushed his shoulder back in place as he exhaled a silent scream. Once in place, he let the agony pull a groan and a couple tears from him before bracing himself once more. He had another shoulder to put back into place. Another deep breath was followed another noiseless cry as his shoulder went back to where it belonged. Clinging onto consciousness, Alfred dragged himself back to where Kumajirou still laid. He leaned against the bear's shoulder, feeling its labored breaths shaking its body.

"Mattie!" Alfred shook off his sodden cloak. Turning his back to the river, he tore off the sleeve of his tunic and pressed the fabric against his brother's side. He untied the laces to his boots and tied them around Matthew's torso as a makeshift bandage. It was too cold to remove anymore clothing and see the full extent of the wound. Much colder than before.

"Al…" Matthew groaned. Glazed nearly-purple eyes found wide blue ones. "The…river…"

"It's o-okay," Alfred replied, forcing a smile. "She's gone. Kumajiro was g-great and—"

A loud cracking sound came from behind them. They were high enough to avoid the sweeping currents of the rapids but not far enough to see its terrible strength. Towering trees were uprooted and broken as if they were twigs. Large boulders were being swept away as if they were insignificant pebbles. The river became a cataclysm for anything that stood in its way.

And soon, that would include the village.

Before panicked thoughts invaded Alfred's mind, Matthew turned towards him and fell from Kumajirou's back, landing on his lap. He grabbed Matthew shoulder but was pushed away. "Mattie, what are you—?"

"_Hiver gén_—" Matthew rasped before passing out.

Alfred pushed his brother back on top of Kumajirou. He struggled to keep his eyes open. His mind and body were exhausted, pushed way past his mental and physical limits. A new heaviness began to weigh down on him, this time on his heart. The river wouldn't take long to reach the village. And if they survived the attack of the river, they will not survive the flooding that occurred in the spring when the winter ice melted.

Thoughts of possibly saving the village flew away when he turned and saw the river. He didn't even know if he could still call it a river. The waters were _frozen._ The currents were beautifully sculpted into sinuous lines. Trees and rocks were suspended into the clear blue ice. The glacier rose up above treetops and glinted in the afternoon sun. Cold mist wrapped around Alfred but his body didn't feel it. _How could a whole river freeze instantaneously? _

A deep groan rumbled up river. Alfred crawled towards the ice and found that only a small section of the river was frozen. It was currently acting as a wall for the unfrozen portion of the river. But it was temporary. Alfred could already see cracks forming in the ice. There wasn't enough time to warn the village much less build another dam. The situation was hopeless. He condemned their village and possibly several others to save his brother's life.

No, he did not regret the drastic measure he took to save his brother. He only wished that the consequences weren't as they were.

Something soft and cold nudged his shoulder. Alfred didn't hear Kumajiro pad towards him but that was definitely his nose. The bear nudged his shoulder again then grunted. Alfred painfully turned his head. Kumajiro shook his head then started to slump away, Matthew still unconscious on his back.

"I can't just do nothing!" Alfred rasped at the bear's behind. "Those villagers will be wiped out!"

Then Alfred saw where the bear was heading. It wasn't slumping away from the river but _alongside_ it. Up ahead were several large boulders precariously perched on the edge of a small cliff—Alfred turned around—in the opposite direction was the village. _Can they see it? Do they know that the dam is gone?_

Alfred and Matthew were there when the ancestors of the current villages first thought about taming that river. When the air turned warm, the simple river would turn deadly with the melting winter snows from the mountain. For centuries that dam stood and saved the village from a watery armageddon. Nevermore.

_Maybe they've all evacuated,_ Alfred hoped though he knew it to be false. There was no possible way that they could see river's status this far up the mountain. And even if they did evacuate, they had no where else to go before the water reached them.

Alfred let out a frustrated growl and scrambled after the bear. His body screamed in agony. Pain exploded in several parts of his body and simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to his feet and trudged forward. He was a hero—his body could bitch all it wanted, but until the villagers are safe, it had better continue doing whatever Alfred commanded it to do.

By the time he reached the rocks, cracks had webbed over the majority of the ice. Large pieces of the tip of the glacier were tumbling down the sides. A deep rumble reverberated through the ice just as cracks grew in dimensions.

The boulders before him were near the end of the glacier. If they fall, they would land on the glacier and then tumble between the ice and the river, a sturdier layer to the makeshift dam. He eyed the giant stones. Grand and heavy as they were, Alfred braced his aching shoulder against the topmost boulder and pushed. His body cried out in protest barely having enough enough energy to stand. He kept pushing, ignoring the screaming complaints of his body. Large paws the size of his head pressed themselves on the rock. Kumajiro growled as he helped his master's brother. Years passed by until the rocks finally gave way. They tumbled into the water in thuds loud enough to be heard over the roaring of the water and Alfred, having no more strength left, was about to fall as well if Kumajiro hadn't caught his tunic again.

Alfred collapsed on the ground and stared at his brother's unconscious face. The ice below cracked and a ripping noise tore through the air. But Alfred didn't hear it. He was too exhausted. Too much in pain. Too close to hopelessness. Kumajiro laid down beside him, bringing Matthew closer to him. _Hand, please save my brother. I'm the idiot here, not him. Please, let him live and I'll do anything you please. Anything._

"_Aiyah!_" A voice said somewhere far away. "Are you guys okay?"

"Nnnggg…" came Alfred's reply.

"You're hurt, aru!" The voice started to fade. _Wait...save Mattie..._

The last thing Alfred saw was the sapphire emblem of the Spades.

* * *

**Poor bbys. It gets better eventually.**

**Questions? Comments? Concerns?**

**Review:)**


	3. Chapter 2 - Dream of Hearts

**I'm going to shoot for monthly updates with this story:P**

* * *

_"Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes," _\- Carl Jung

* * *

**Dream of Hearts**

When Feliciano Vargas was found to be the Jack of Hearts, well, it was quite the story. He had been hiding in a wooden box from his older brother, Lovino, who was hellbent on making sure that he does his chores. He thought himself clever—surely no one would find him in a box labelled "tomatoes" in the middle of a small thicket. Imagine his surprise when someone _did_ open his box. And not just any someone, the Authoritative King of Hearts himself.

"My lord Jack."

"Ve?" Felician paused his stroll through the halls of the Ruby Castle.

The servant bowed and placed a palm over his heart then waved it towards the Jack in the Hearts' salute of sharing one's heart. "Your presence is being requested in the—"

"_Oi, bastardo!_"

Feliciano smiled at the servant and dismissed him as his brother stomped towards him. "What is it, Lovi?"

"Don't '_What is it, Lovi?'_ me! Where the hell do you think you're fucking going?" Lovino ground out. His red suit and brown trousers made the reddening of his face more noticeable.

"Me? I'm about to go painting in the garden! There are so many pretty colors out there with all the flowers brother Antonio planted and the dresses all the _bellas_ are wear—"

"Like hell you are! Didn't that potato bastard tell you about that meeting?"

"Ve~?" Feliciano tilted his head and tried to remember if there was a meeting that day. That is, until Lovino, flushedand fuming, whacked him in the head.

"C'mon. Every time you don't show your stupid face, they make me come get your sorry ass," Lovino growled and dragged his younger brother with him.

Feliciano grinned happily and Lovino grumbled. He let his older brother pull him as his amber eyes wandered around the hall. He has been living in the Hearts castle ever since the King brought him and his brother there. Even now, its architecture and design awed him. Thick marble pillars of pure white with red and gold trimmings reached to high domed ceilings. Large windows intervaled scarlet tapestries of the Hearts' history on the great walls. Wide floors tiled with a red-and-white checkered pattern. Occasional redwood tables topped with purple vases holding flowers of every shade of red, orange, and violet lined the hall. One could never tire of such impeccable design.

Outside, the sun lit the castle grounds through a cloudless sky and a small breeze flirted with the leaves of the shrubbery—Feliciano envied the citizens outside enjoying the final warm days before winter. He racked his brain, trying to remember if there really was a meeting today because only a terribly strict grump would plan the monthly meeting of the Suits that day. And in all honestly, the King would certainly fit that description.

"...and that's why you—_Veneziano!_"

Feliciano sighed at the loss of the outside view when they turned a to a corridor with significantly less and smaller windows. He glanced at his brother when his middle name was used. "_Sì_, _Romano_?"

"I have a fucking bad feeling, okay?" Lovino some how mumbled seriously, not looking his younger brother in the eye. "Something is going to happen. Something big and awful. And fucking soon. Just—watch yourself, okay?"

The brothers had stopped in front of a pair of large oaken doors which Feliciano would have gawked at _again_ if his brother hadn't given him a speech. It may not be much of a monologue, but for Lovino, it was quite the mouthful. All throughout, his face progressively turned red and became more concerned, like the many times when Feliciano's clumsiness as a kid would leave many scratches on his knees.

"S-sure, _fratello_," Feliciano spluttered, not sure how to reply to the anomaly in his brother's mannerisms. "But what are you so worried abou—"

Just then, the large oaken doors burst open. Before Feliciano could turn to see who had interrupted him, he and Lovino were engulfed into a strong hug. "Feli! Lovi!" a voice said cheerfully.

"Get. Off. Me!" Lovino growled at the intruder of his personal space as Feliciano happily returned the hug he was receiving. "_Antonio!"_

Antonio let out a deep laugh and released them. He smiled down at them with cheerful peridot eyes. Curly brown hair swayed slightly as he glanced back and forth between the brothers before him. "Where have you two been? You're the last ones to get here—eh? Lovi, you're have looks like a tomato!"

Red-faced and definitely looking like a tomato, Lovino started swearing profusely at practically everything around him, breathing or otherwise.

"Ve~what time was the meeting supposed to start, big brother Tonio?" Feliciano asked.

Antonio turned slightly and motioned for them to follow him inside. "In about a couple—"

"Ten Carriedo, have Jack and Ace Vargas arrived yet?" asked a deep and resonant voice, which Feliciano identified as the King's, asked from the conference chamber.

"—seconds," Antonio finished in a whisper then whirled around and addressed the room with his constant and effervescent charm. "Yes, the Jack and Ace have just arrived."

"We're right here, Luddy~" Feliciano sang as he skipped into the room while Antonio coaxed Romano to find his seat. Feliciano glanced around and found all the other Suit members present. The ranks Ace through Ten were seated in a wide U-shaped table facing the door. The King and the Queen waited for the Jack to join them in a smaller but taller table behind the one the others sat in.

"Are we late?" Feliciano asked as he plopped down beside his king.

"_Nein_. We are just about to begin," Ludwig replied then nodded to the man sitting on his right.

The Queen of Hearts, a man by the name of Kiku Honda, nodded in return and rose to his feet. Feliciano watched as his soft-spoken friend raised his arm. As he did, the Numbered Suit and the Ace stood and saluted the Jack, Queen and King. A wave of the king's hand had them sitting down and the guards opening the door to a village woman.

"Good morning, Your Majesties, my Lords and Ladies," she said with a flourish.

Feliciano instantly slouched on his seat. The woman was probably a member of some organization that may be—most likely not—important in the inner-workings of the kingdom.

"With me today are the reports of the central markets, the statements of all three of the foreign ambassadors, the demographic reports of the Royal Research Branch in the East, as well as the progress report of the Crimson Engineering Company on the joined Transcontinental Rail System with the Kingdom of Spades."

_Oh_.

Smiling at the pointed look Ludwig was giving, he lazily waved for the woman to give her report. As the Jack, it was his duty to look through the activities of major influences of the countries outside the Suits. Feliciano let his amber eyes float over to the secretary beside the queen and found him scribbling furiously as a superfluity of information streamed from their guest's mouth.

"Although, the Eastern markets are in the best shape they have been in the past century…"

Making a mental reminder to request for a copy of those notes, Feliciano rotated his gaze about the room. The other Suits showed picture perfect posture. Though were not as open as the Jack of their boredom, he knew them more than well enough to know that they were only half-listening. As the thirteen most influential beings in all of Hearts, they gave the woman the obligatory respect and attention. But they were also immortals whose very bodies were in sync with the nation in some way. The woman was merely confirming with hard fact what the Suit already knew.

"...trade has become quite the hassle with the rise of a group calling themselves the 'Clockwork Hammer' that have yet to make their intentions clear…"

The Jack's amber gaze floated over to the King sitting beside him. Ludwig Beilschmidt had the regal and commanding air about him, fitting for his position. No doubt his previous occupation as the Lord General of the Hearts army helped. Any unrest among the people, especially a clear suggestion from the rise of a rebellion group, was a sign for concern and would certainly alarm Ludwig. However, the King's face remained stoic indicating that the so-called rebellion was a long way from becoming a threat.

"...ambassadors have reported turmoil in each of the other countries which is affecting our ability to trade with them efficiently…"

He took note of the Ace's raised eyebrow and quick jot of a note on the paper before him. Foreign affairs were in normally the Jack's and the Ace's jurisdiction, but it was Feliciano that the Suits tended to send to other countries to represent them instead of his foul-mouthed older brother. Nonetheless, both the Vargas brothers, like rest of Suits, took their job seriously when it had a direct effect on the people. Feliciano checked off the names of each of the embassadors from his memory to have a personal word with them later.

"...however, if we specialize certain trade with a specific areas of the other kingdoms…"

The woman then dived into a flurry of statistics and numbers that hardly made any sense to the Jack. Instead, he found entertainment in eying the red and pink and purple motifs of everyone's outfits. It was traditional to wear such patterns—being the national colors and all.

The Jack snapped up as the Suits sitting in the U-table rose to their feet. _How long was I staring at the colors? _He was about to do the same had Ludwig not placed a gentle hand on his arm, reminding him that as Jack and the third highest power in all of Hearts, he needn't stand as the woman made her leave.

The woman curtsied to the three Royals then promptly made her way out of the conference room. Once the ornate doors closed behind her, the standing Suits unceremoniously fell back to their seats. Several human lifetimes spend together threw a good amount of formalities out of the window. Even their stern King let out a sigh as he slouched ever-so-slightly on his throne.

Feliciano resisted a giggle. He has come to know the King over the centuries that he had lived in the Ruby Castle. He remembered the flustered face Ludwig sported when Feliciano, after several attempts to spend time with him, demanded they be friends. The King had grudgingly agreed but has come to be one of the Jack's best friends and vice versa. Feliciano had heard of tales of Ludwig's commanding prowess and skill within the battlefield, and was genuinely surprised that his somewhat awkward friend had a somewhat bloodthirsty side to him. Nonetheless, Ludwig was a stern and respectable King that has led the country through centuries of peace and order.

Reaching his arms to the sky, Feliciano stretched until his back popped. He let out a satisfied hum when it did. Out of habit, he rubbed the area between his shoulders. A habit he picked up after he was Signed. He clearly remembered when the Insignia of the Jack of Hearts appeared in between his shoulder blades, which was around the same time the Insignia of the Ace of Hearts appeared on his brother's side. Days before he met the King, the two brothers were in their home cooking pasta when the searing heat of being chosen by the great Hand hit them. When they regained consciousness, the pasta was way overdone—much to their dismay—and their respective black Insignias were stained into their skin.

As far as they've learned, Suits are born with longevity—they aged slowly until they were Signed. Once they received their Insignia, they stopped aging altogether. Their bodies were more durable than those of their human subjects and any injury healed incredibly quick. Each also had skills that put them right between human and god, like magic or clairvoyance in battle. However, there are also a great many things about themselves that they do not know. For example, they do not know how they die. Will they fade into nothing? Will they disappear in a blink of an eye? What happens when the Hand has deemed their rule over?

Feliciano shook himself of these thoughts. Their generation of Suits have yet to witness an actual death of a Suit and in these times of peace, that is highly unlikely.

The other Suits had fallen into idle chat. The King was currently leaned towards the Queen in order to validate some of the data that the woman presented to them. Ten Carriedo was currently poking fun at the Ace who was quickly turning a deep red color. The murmur of voices faded to nothing as the Queen, a short man with terrifyingly shrewd black eyes, called the room's attention.

"I have been informed that there are no more civilian reports to listen to for this meeting," the Queen announced, Feliciano smiled at the barely audible sighs of relief from his comrades. "Now, the Suits will present any reports they deem significant for this monthly meeting. Is there anyone who would like to begin?"

Feliciano's eyes dropped slightly followed by his head. He snapped it back, eyes flying wide open. _Ve? But I'm not tired yet! I slept well last night and I even took a siesta a couple minutes before Lovi found me._

"I would, Your Majesty," Nine Heracles Karpusi answered the Queen as he rose to his feet. He bowed to the three royals then stood in the middle of the room when Ludwig motioned him to do so. "This past week, a minor earthquake struck my province. No major damage was done nor were there any reports casualties, but part of our central minining system collapsed. This uncovered a new tunnel leading to an unexplored cave system deeper underground…"

Try as he might, the Jack could not find the energy to keep his eyes open. In the end, he simply leaned his head on the King's shoulder. Ludwig tensed for a moment but did nothing to discourage Feliciano's actions. Then, Feliciano began to dream.

* * *

Drooping eyelids snapped open to reveal terribly confused amber eyes. With the slight floating sensation on his body, Feliciano knew he was in a dream. But this dream felt_...different._ It felt heavier—as if closer to reality than an illusion his mind had conjured.

Where his dreams were usually filled with colors like his paintings or the happiness like when his grandfather was still able to smile at him, this dream had him surrounded by a dark murkiness that settled like a black fog in this featureless world. With nothing else to focus on, Feliciano looked down upon himself. He was wearing the same outfit as he had in the meeting—a long white silk tunic, purplish trousers and boots, and a red overcoat with puffy shoulders. Even his favorite maroon beret was still perched on his head, proudly sporting the Hearts' crest on its side.

The Jack let out a sigh—standing there was not going to get him anywhere, so he took a step forward. As soon as his foot touched the ground, the blackness disappeared and an achingly familiar scene opened up before him. He stood on the threshold of a quaint stone bridge leading to a cozy-looking village. A small stream sang from underneath as rays of the sun glided between the trees lining the sides of the water. Feliciano could feel the chill of the oncoming fall of this memory that happened nearly a thousand years ago.

"Draw a circle, it's the Earth~"

His stomach dropped as he turned at the voice of a girl skipping towards the bridge.

"Draw a circle, it's the Earth~"

The Jack chuckled to himself. How could he forget that he looked like that? His younger self bounced towards the bridge, eyes closed in innocent bliss, bronze hair flopping about soft and flushed cheeks. A basket held in his mittened hand swung back and forth as he skipped. a cloak hugged his shoulders and barely covered the frilly, green maid's outfit he sported. His voice was much too high to be identified as male at the time. Hence, his master giving him a maid's outfit that he gladly accepted. Of course, he had no idea that his master was utterly clueless about his gender back then, but he didn't honestly care. That, and the skirts was quite comfortable—much more than trousers anyways.

Feliciano stepped aside as his singing past neared him. He was pleasantly shocked to find that the boy only came up to his chest since he wasn't that big of a man. His eyes wandering to the boy's basket. It was a plain woven basket—dark brown with the cover broken off. _There's something with that basket_—

"Feli?"

Both the younger and older Feliciano turned at the voice of a woman coming from the opposite direction of the bridge. She was wearing similar green maid's outfit as Feliciano's younger self, but upon closer inspection, one would be able to make out the fine embroidery on the apron and the expensive quality of the dress' fabric. Those with an experienced eye could tell that this woman was more important than her clothes let on. She was the future Queen of Clubs after all.

"Ms. Héderváry!" Feliciano's younger self cried and bounded over towards her.

Elizabeta, Master Roderich Edelstein's fiancée at the time, let out a soft chuckle as the boy embraced her. "Where are you off to this late in the day?"

"To the market!"

"I just came from the market and bought everything we need for the week, my dear. There's no need for you to go."

The Jacks of Hearts chuckled to himself. Even though she was the Lady of the House, Elizabeta kept insisting on taking on some of the chores around the manor. Something about working her whole life and not wanting luxury to change her…

"Ve? But I want to go! The florist had a new shipment come in today. He said some of the flowers came all the way from Diamonds! I want to see what they look like and if they're different than our flowers here."

"Alright, alright," Elizabeta laughed, then handed the boy a small coin pouch. "Buy yourself some more paints, aren't you running out?"

The boys smiled so brightly that both adults couldn't help but smile themselves. "How did you know?"

Elizabeta ruffled his hair fondly. "You can only make a limited amount of masterpieces with a limited number of paints. And with your paintings covering nearly all our walls, you must be getting close to that limit."

That was why Feliciano loved his childhood. Sure, Master Roderich would get frustrated him when he didn't do his chores or when he'd eat more than he was supposed to, but it was Lady Héderváry that always cared for him and noticed things about him as much as any mother would.

"_Grazie_! Thank you so much, Elizabeta!" The boy exclaimed, knowing full well that the Lady preferred it when he called her by her name, and embraced her once more.

Elizabeta returned the gestured then motioned the boy towards the bridge after he promised to be home before dark. The younger Feliciano continued to wave at Elizabeta until she disappeared around the corner in the direction of the Edelstein Manor.

Puffing warm air to his covered hands, the boy continued his skipping to the bridge with a wider smile and flushed cheeks from both the cold and the prospect of new art supplies that waited for him.

Not knowing what else to do, the Jack followed his younger self. He remembered journeying to the market over this bridge hundreds of times. It was such a common occurrence in his childhood that he wondered what significance—Kiku had told him that certain dreams were extremely important in one's life, especially for the Suits—this particular memory could possibly hold. He was currently two-thousand and five hundred twenty-six, but in this memory he couldn't have been more than a couple centuries old. _Was there something important that happens here? Why can't I remember which specific memory this is? I don't even remember ever receiving more coins to get paints, even from Elizabeta!_

A gust of piercing cold wind snapped him out of his thoughts as his younger self cried, "Oh no!"

Midway through the bridge, two pairs of amber eyes watched sullenly as the basket flew right of the boy's hands and into the stream.

_Ve! I remember this! I lost so many baskets on the way to the market, Mr. Edelstein practically tied the future baskets to my hand. But which memory is this?_

As Feliciano contemplated the importance of this particular memory, his younger self gathered his skirts, ran back to end of the bridge, then down the slope of the creek. The Jack caught up with him and joined him in watching helplessly as the basket floated ever-so-slowly just out of their reach. Both Feliciano's let out a relieved sigh when the basket was caught on a stone in the middle of the stream.

The younger stalked the side of the stream until he found the exact spot where he was closest to the basket that was still on dry land. "_Grazie a Mano_, it stopped. But, how do I get it back?" The younger mumbled to himself as there was still significant amount of water between him and his prize.

_Wait, I don't remember this. Usually when it fell in the stream, I was never able to get it back. Did this really happen?_ Both Feliciano's were racking their brains—one for this memory, the other for a retrieval solution for the basket.

The Jack left his unanswerable thoughts and listened to his younger self's grumbling. "Maybe a broom…?" The younger wondered out loud. But both the younger and older shook their heads. He would need an impossibly long broom.

"You know, I'm pretty sure that the woodworker has a ladder that you could use. If that doesn't work, you can just buy a new one with the money that Elizabeta…" The Jack had suggested this out loud, but the younger made no sign of hearing him. Feliciano waved his hand in front of his younger self then placed a hand on his shoulder. To his shock, his hand phased through the boy.

Both of them shifted uncomfortably, their shoes were sinking into the mud. The wind that had tore the basket from the younger's grip had died down into a small breeze, but still had a frosty bite. It could have been easily ignored, but it will bare its teeth to anyone covered in water.

_If this is a dream, then why can I feel the wind and mud? Gross, its all mushy…_

As much as he wanted to wake up, there was a small voice in his head whispering for him to stay. That something important will happen. That he needed to remember this very moment more than the other two-millennia's' worth of memories he had.

"Mr. Edelstein will be _livid _if he finds out I lost another one!" He heard his younger's girlish voice practically cry out. He watched as the boy desperately searched about then grabbed a branch. The elder knew that the branch would hardly make a difference—it was far too short and even bent in its own weight—but the younger was getting more desperate by the second. Feliciano shuddered at the memory of an angry Roderich Edelstein.

The younger approached the edge of the water, then stepped in. The leather material of his boot kept the water from touching his skin but did nothing to stop the chill. Feliciano, still standing on the bank and out of the water, could swear with his entire life that he could feel the chill on his own two feet.

The Jack watched worriedly as the younger braved the cold water for his basket. Once the water almost reached the tops of his boots, the boy stopped. Feliciano could hear the chattering of the younger's teeth as he teetered under the weight of the branch. The bottoms of his skirts were soaking wet and his apron was covered in dirt. Hopefully, all that would be overlooked _if _he returns with the basket. Something urgent flashed through the Jack's mind.

"_Aspetta!_" Feliciano cried but was too late—he wouldn't have been heard anyways.

The younger had already taken another step forward, but the combined weight of his body and the branch was too much of a burden for his balance, especially when standing on top of slippery and submerged stones. He was still within the Jack's reach—Feliciano's stretched his arm but, like earlier, it merely phased through his younger's body. The younger let out a shriek before disappearing in the water. The older only had one foot in the water, but the cold sting of the water was covering his entire body.

..._so cold...why…?_

Feliciano clutched his head. A pounding pain reverberated in his skull as a fire exploded in his lungs. A memory was hammering in his mind but refused to show itself. It was as if a giant wall separated it from Feliciano. The younger had disappeared in the deceptively calm water, weighed down by his cloak and skirt.

_...can't...breathe…_

_Are these my thoughts?_

_...can't…_

_Or his?_

_...breathe…_

_I can't help him._

_...am I going to die…?_

_NO!_

A loud splash jolted the older out of his despair. A painfully familiar black cloak fell on the bank behind him as a figure disappeared in the water with his past self. Feliciano let out a ragged breath when two heads broke through the surface—his past self's and a blond one.

Feliciano's heart cringed. _I know who that is…_

"Hey, are you alright?" The blond panted, as soon as they fell on the bank.

The boy in his arms groaned in response, shivering violently. The blond fumbled for his dry cloak and wrapped it around Feliciano's younger self. Then he gathered him in arms and, with a grunt and an impressive show of strength, lifted him, and carried him up the bank and to the bridge.

The Jack scrambled after them, unable to take his eyes off of this new character. But his mind was telling him that this blond boy wasn't new, at least not to the older Feliciano, yet he can't remember him.

"It's okay," the blond soothed to the younger as he laid him down on the soft ground. But the poor thing was trembling so much that he refused to be separated from this source of warmth. The blond chuckled softly and held the boy to his chest until his teeth was barely chattering. "I've seen you before, you know."

"Y-you have-ve?" Feliciano heard his adolescent girlish voice whimper. He separated from him just enough to meet his sky blue eyes with his own amber ones.

_I know him…_

The blond's cheeks turned red then looked away. The younger thought it was from the cold. The older knew that it was because he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "Y-yes. I've seen you around the Edelstein Manor. You work for Rod—I mean, Mr. Edelstein, yes?"

The younger nodded. The blond then pulled away then wrapped his cloak tighter around the boy. "I'll be right back."

"W-wait," the younger mourned as the lack of warmth clawed at him.

The blond rose to his feet and turned, looking _directly _at the Jack of Hearts. Feliciano froze, his heart stopping as those sky-blue eyes pinned him down. Then blonde strode forward. Feliciano staggered back, but the blond phased through him. An believably comforting warmth washed over him then disappeared instantly. The two-millennia old Jack collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest, and gasping for breath, as if he was drowning in ice cold water.

Tears pricked his eyes. _He's important. He's someone important to me. Oh Hand, why can't I remember!?_

A deafening splash had both Feliciano's whirling around and gaping at the stream just as the boy's head disappeared into the water. Both of them held their breaths until more splashes erupted in the surface as the blond swam towards the basket perched on a rock. He quickly grabbed the basket, hooked it to his elbow and paddled back in awkward motions.

"You were—trying to—get this, right?" The blond panted as he plopped down beside the younger.

Both Feliciano's were still gaping at the boy. The younger shook his head and took the basket with a shaking hand. "Y-yes. But-t you d-didn't h-ave t-to do th-that—ar-aren't you c-cold?"

"It's okay—it would have been—a waste of a basket anyways. And no,—I'm no cold."

"T-thank y-you."

The blond nodded. "It's getting—much colder now that sun—is going down—we should get you back home." He took a moment to catch his breath then shifted to his knees. Placing an arm under the younger's knees and another around his waist, he hoisted Feliciano's younger self. The Jack couldn't help but notice the unfamiliar shade of pink that flushed his younger self's cheeks.

"N-no w-wait I-I hav-ve t-to go to t-the m-market—"

"You can't be serious. You're soaking wet. This night feels closer to winter than autumn. You are going to get sick before you even make it halfway to the market," the blond replied rather bluntly.

Both Feliciano's stared at him. Then they smiled as the blond blushed, muttered sweet nothings and continued to fuss all over the younger until they reached the gates to Edelstein manor.

A servant, upon immediately recognizing Feliciano soaking wet, immediately opened the gate and herded the two teens towards the manor. The front door burst open to reveal a very worried and concerned Elizabeta.

"Feli!" The Lady of the House gasped, pulling them both in and then towards the hearth. A fire blazed happily in the fireplace, filling the Jack with a lethargic warmth. "What in Hand's name happened?"

"Well—" the blond started but his words were cut off when the other boy sneezed.

"Oh, nevermind. that can wait until you get warm." Elizabeta scooted them closer to the fire where the younger leaned forward to warm his cold-flushed cheeks. The poor thing was still shivering despite the blazing fire.

Elizabeta sent one of the servants to get the Master of the house and another one for blankets. She herself disappeared for a moment and returned with another dress to replace Feliciano's sodden one. After a promise of warm clothes to the blond, the two of them exited the room to give Feliciano some privacy to change.

The Jack watched himself change. The younger's shoulder blades were clear of any Insignia. His hand unconsciously rubbed his own back, not easily remembering a time where the Insignia of the Jack of Hearts was absent.

Once in dry clothes, the younger called for Elizabeta and the blond back into the room. The Lady of the House continued to fuss over him while the blond sat back—in dry clothes that looked several sizes too big—holding two steaming cups of tea.

"Thank you so much for saving me," Feliciano heard his girlish voice praise the blond. Though the boy was still shivering under a pile of blankets, his teeth were no longer chattering. "But, how did you find me?"

The blond blushed as he padded forward and offered the younger a cup of tea, then sat beside him. "I was making my way home when you made your way down to the stream. I suppose I became curious to what your intentions were so I—um, watched. When you went under water, I became worried. When you didn't come back up—well, I had to do something."

"Ve? Really? You saw all that?" the younger chuckled, while the older didn't remember having the decency to blush whenever he was caught doing something foolish. "Anyways, thank you so much! My name is Felicia—" the younger sneezed. Then again. And again.

"You should really be resting, Felicia," the blond suggested with a small smile. He shifted to his knees and fixed the blankets tighter around 'Felicia'. The Jack shivered in his mud-stained clothes, grateful that he wasn't leaving behind any dirt in his wake.

"That's not my n—" the younger sneezed again. "What's your name?"

The Jack felt himself pulling away from the scene. No longer could he feel the warmth of the fire. No longer could he smell the wooden walls of the manor. No longer could he hear his younger self and the blond.

_Wait!_

He saw the blond's mouth moving as he gave his younger self his name. He couldn't hear it. He couldn't _remember _it. He knew this boy. He knew this boy was important. He knew that this boy was important to him.

_So why can't I remember?_

* * *

**So here's the next chappie. Again, this story is currently going through a rewrite and it'll be a while before I reach where it had originally let off.**

**Chapter 3 and 4 will be posted on my tumblr within the next 2 weeks.**


	4. Cahpter 3 - A Cup of Tea

"_The key to both [advise and great tea] is proper aging" -Uncle Iroh, _Avatar: the Last Airbender*

* * *

**A Cup of Tea**

"Al."

"Hmmmmnggghhh."

"Wake up, we need to talk."

"Not now, 'Attie. 'M sleepin."

Matthew sighed. "What happened yesterday?"

"Wha…? Yes'rday we..." _went hunting in the mountains, but we couldn't find anything because the animals were killed by_—

The assassin. The river. The dam. The village. _Matthew._ Everything came crashing back—Alfred had single-handedly destroyed the dam and inadvertently caused the cataclysm that would—if not already—completely wipe out his home village from the face of the world.

But that was not his main focus at the moment. Matthew let out a shriek of surprise when Alfred bolted upright and grabbed his shoulders with vice-like grip. "MATTIE! The assassin—you were injured—the river—oh shit, I broke the dam!—then villagers—but the ice—I don't know how that happened—then the rocks— and Kumajirou and—YOU WERE BLEEDING—"

Alfred's head snapped to the side, his neck hurting slightly but not as much as the stinging on his cheek. Matthew had _slapped_ him. Wide-eyed, he turned back to his brother who had was suppressing a smirk. "Better?"

He raised his eyebrows. Surprisingly, that slap jolted his mind enough for it to straighten out his thoughts without being livid at his brother. "Yeah, thanks."

Matthew nodded. "Now, can you let go of me?"

Alfred did just that but kept a worried eye over his twin as he massaged his shoulders. Images of Matthew's bloodstained clothes kept flashing through his mind. He was just thankful that he wasn't still wearing them—

Wait.

Blinking his eyes, he inspected his brother once more. He was no longer wearing his usual worn down tunic or permanently mud-stained trousers. Instead, he donned a brand new gray wool shirt, black-hide pants, and a large fur coat. What surprised Alfred the most was not the outfit's unfamiliarity, but it's quality. Patterns like that only came from expert weavers from the capital and made from sheep bred specifically for their wool. The material of the pants looked nothing like the hide of any animals here in the mountains or any surrounding areas. And the coat was a royal blue with rhinestones and gold trimmings winking at Alfred.

Looking past his brother, he found himself inside a blue tent. He sat in an unbelievably soft pile of blankets with colors ranging from blue to purple to black. A table sat in the far corner with a small stack of thick folded cloaks. His clothes too were unfamiliar—nearly identical to Matthew's save for his white shirt. But what baffled him the most was the intoxicating warmth and brightness inside the tent. No fire burned anywhere inside—it felt as if the heat and light radiated from the tent walls themselves.

Ever patient as he is, Matthew said nothing while his brother took in the situation. Alfred would forever be thankful for that. He didn't know what to think and once he found his voice, he questioned his brother.

"I was confused too when I woke up," Matthew chuckled, scratching his head. "I woke up dressed like this right next to you. And before you ask, I'm fine."

"How long was I out for?"

"About an hour after I woke up. Without any idea what was going on, I decided to just wait for you to wake up. That is, until one of the soldiers came in."

Alfred stared at his twin. "Soldiers?"

Matthew held up his hands, signaling his brother calm down and listen instead of jumping to conclusions. "There was a convoy passing by when the dam fell. No one was injured, but they did find us unconscious where the dam used to be…"

He trailed off, looking at him expectantly but Alfred looked away—everytime he thought of that dam falling, because of him, all he could see was the village disappearing in an aberrant flood. _It was that or Matie would have died! If I had time to come up with another way, I would have followed it!_

"Well," Matthew continued knowing full-well that he wasn't going to get an explanation until Alfred was ready, "the convoy that found us actually belongs to a Suit."

Alfred paled. "A Suit? One of the thirteen most powerful people in the kingdom? _Here_?" He did recall seeing the blue of Spades before he brought down the dam and again right before passing out. Someone dress in Spades blue had found them.

Matthew nodded grimly. "Do you remember what happened to the Suits a few months back?"

His brother shook his head, knowing full-well that he was practically ignorant in the workings of the Suits and the Kingdom. Matthew sighed. "The entire Suit was called back to the capital six months ago."

"Wait," Alfred said. "Then who's been running the provinces?" Ignorant he may be, he at least knew as much as the accumulation of rumors let him. Each kingdom was split into ten provinces—the capital and one that each of the Numbered Suits watched over.

"The provincial senates, I suppose." Matthew shrugged. "Our village is pretty isolated, so there wasn't much of an effect on us."

A thoughtful silence washed over them until Alfred spoke. "If the entire Suit was called to the capital, it must have been serious." Matthew nodded for him to continue. "Then the provinces have been running independent of them. And there have been no unrest?"

"None that I've heard of," Matthew replied. "What are you thinking about?"

Alfred drew a breath for what he was about to say, if heard by the wrong person, could potentially get him in deep trouble. "I'm saying, the provinces have been running smoothly without the Suit, so why do we have them in the first place?"

Matthew's eyebrows rose for a second then furrowed in thought. "Well," he said after a while, "maybe they're taking care of something more important."

"More important than the people?" Alfred challenged.

"Look," Matthew sighed, "all I'm saying is we don't know the full picture. We get small snippets from the rumors we hear. That's it. Let's not jump to conclusions."

Alfred simply shrugged and let the subject go. No, he didn't care for the Suits nor the workings of the kingdom when it didn't directly affect him. But that didn't mean that his mind hadn't wandered in that area at all. "You said one of the soldiers came in."

"Eh? Oh, that's right. One of the soldiers came in with those fur cloaks over there and asked us to meet the leader of the convoy once you were conscious."

"The Suit?"

Matthew simply shrugged, stumbled to his feet, and grabbed the cloaks on the table. He tossed one to his brother then threw the other one around his shoulders. "Put your new shoes on and let's go."

Alfred pulled on the fur boots—alarmed yet pleased to find that they fit him perfectly—then raced after his brother who had already exited the tent. Once outside, he mourned the loss of warmth that tent gave them. It was brutally cold, winter had come early with full force. Hunched shoulders, cloak pulled tighter around him, nose buried into the furr collar, Alfred glared silently at his brother who was simply strolling through this blizzard as if it was just another morning in spring.

Tents, some blue like the one they had but mostly spartan colors of brown and beige, were erect and somehow withstood the intense winds. A few campfires defied the winds but offered little warmth to those sitting around them. But there were only quite a few others outside in the winter—most, like Alfred, wanted to enjoy the inside warmth of the tents. And they did, unlike Alfred.

"It's fr-freez-zing out-t here! H-how the h-hell c-can you wa-walk ar-round-d l-like th-that?" Alfred whined, not yet outgrowing—nor wanting to—his childish impulse to complain when miserable.

"I suppose winter came early this year, eh?" Matthew said with a smug smile and completely ignoring his brother's question.

Alfred grumbled to himself, not wanting to waste his energy in a useless argument, and rubbed his arms to keep whatever warmth he had left. Before they had gone hunting the day before, the weather at the foot of the mountains was peaceful with only a slight chill that people can simply walk a couple paces and it would no longer be a bother. Alfred cursed whatever phenomenon caused this change.

The mountains loomed over them, as if hiding some sinister plan that concerned him. No longer did they give Alfred the nostalgia of home like they had in past seven centuries. The quick glance was enough to give him the proper identifying geography to locate where this camp had set up. They were at the foot of the western side of the mountain range, the Spadian side, and quite close to where their village were. In fact, Alfred raised slightly and found the twinkling lights of their village not to far from the edges of the camp. His heart leaped. _The village still stands!_ That meant his—Kumajiro's—boulder dam plan actually worked!

"Well, looks who's finally up and about!"

The twins turned to see two men approaching. One of them was tightly wrapped in a cloak and shivering as miserably as Alfred while the other stood straight and beamed at them, the bandage over his nose crinkling slightly at the stretch of his smile. "You two are tougher than you look," the one that doesn't seem to feel the cold chuckled, two brown curls dancing in the wind above his head. "When the boss dragged you back here, I could have sworn you two were dead! Especially you, mate," he added, pointing at Matthew.

Alfred flinched, momentarily forgetting his nearly frostbitten state.

"J-jett! C-can y-you tr-try b-being a b-bit mor-re senst-tiv-ve?" The other man tried scolding but the effect failed due to his chattering teeth. He let out a small shriek when a sudden gust of wind blew his hood back, revealing platinum blonde hair with the strangest curl behind the ears, resembling the curling horns of sheep. He quickly pulled his hood back on and turned to the twins. "M'name's M-Malcolm-m and-d this i-is J-jett. You'll h-have t-to exc-cuse my br-brother. H-he c-can be a b-bit brash and reck-ckless s-sometimes."

"I know what you mean," Matthew sighed.

Alfred threw him a quizzical and slightly offended look before introducing himself to the other pair of brothers. "I'm Al-fred and-d this i-is Ma-mattie."

"Matthew," his twin corrected. "I'm—wait, is that a sheep?"

They turned to where Matthew was pointing. What looked like a small cloud with feet and curled horns trotted up to Malcolm and rubbed itself against his legs. "O-oh! Th-this is-s Hipi! He l-likes to f-follow m-me ar-round ev-ven when-n we're tr-traveling."

Matthew was confused. "It...just follows you around?"

Alfred nudged his shoulder. "Y-you -got no r-right saying th-that when-n a gi-giant p-polar bear-r f-follows y-you ar-round when-n it's not-t eating or-r sl-sleeping. Sp-speaking of which-ch, where-re is th-that mon-monster?"

Confusion turned to alarm. "Holy Hand! I haven't seen him since I woke up!" Matthew exclaimed whirling around in hopes to see a familiar white wall of fur.

"Relax," Jett said, raising his hands in a calm-down gesture. "The boss is looking after him. In fact, they're both probably waiting for you in that tent."

The twins followed where Jett was pointing. A large blue tent, easily twice the size of all the surrounding tents, dominated their view. The outside alone spoke of power and authority with its sturdy posture, golden ancient designs, and the two stoic guards standing on either side of the entrance with their spears crossing each other as a barrier to the inside.

"Wh-who exact-ctly is your-r b-boss?" Alfred questioned, turning back to the Jett and Malcolm.

Malcolm sneezed while a knowing smile spread over Jett's face. "You'll find out soon enough, mate. You might want to hurry inside though, you look like you're about to freeze to death!" Malcolm sneezed again. Jett threw an arm around him. "And it looks like you're not the only one."

The younger of the two rumbled off defensive bouts interrupted by occasional sneezes as Jett stirred him towards a nearby campfire. Hipi trotted closely to his master, providing a little bit of warmth with his body.

"Lively bunch aren't they?" Matthew chuckled.

Alfred grumbled something unintelligible then turned towards the gigantic tent. As he approached, with Matthew right behind him, the guards straightened. A closer look had the knights in sturdy looking leather armor with the Spades coat-of-arm displayed proudly over their heart. The leather armor gave the twins small comfort—leather meant that they were are only taking precautionary actions. If they had been wearing plate armor, then they were prepared for a fight.

The guards uncrossed their spears then, in a singular movement, turned to their sides, facing each other. The twins stood there for a moment to see if the guards would do anything. When nothing happened, Alfred stepped forward.

Before he could even reach out the move the flap of the tent out of his way, a familiar growl rumbled from inside followed by a surprised "_Aiyah!_"

"Kumajiro!" Before Alfred knew what was happening, a heavy weight crashed against his back as his brother barreled through the tent entrance, tackling him in the process.

With elegance and grace, the twins crashed into the warm tent of the supposed Suit and tumbled into a majestic pile on the carpeted floor. Alfred would have been irritated at his brother's excitement—only mildly irritated, the opinion of the Suit hardly mattered to him—to see his polar bear—_who's brash and reckless now?_—but the warmth inside had nearly brought him to tears.

Like their previous tent, this one had light and heat radiating from the walls. An antique tapestry dominated the back wall, displaying the Spades crest. An ornate table before it with important looking papers that Alfred gave a passing glance. A rack of weapons stood beside the table. What quickly caught the blacksmith's eye was the variety in the types of blades. The range from double-handed swords to daggers to twin scimitar blades to strange curved glaives told him that whoever owned these weapon was well versed in a great number of fight styles from a variety of places.

"How is he?" Alfred heard his brother whisper.

Suddenly aware that he was still sprawled aesthetically on the ground, he scrambled to his feet and faced the others in the tent. Matthew was on his knees with the polar bear's head on his lap while a short man in a long blue robe fussed around them.

"He will be fine, aru," the long-haired man replied to Matthew, peering over Kumajiro's back. "He pulled some muscles and has some minor scratches and bruising. There was a relatively large gash on his flank, but it was shallow. I was able to patch him pretty well since none of his injuries were anything serious. Unlike yours."

"Serious?" Alfred heard himself ask out loud, his teeth no longer chattering.

The brown haired man towards him and rose to his feet, his head barely reaching Alfred's chest. "You must be the twin brother. My name is Wang Yao. But, please, call me Yao." The man held out a sleeved hand then turned it to a fist which he brought to his chest.

Recognizing the Spades salute, Alfred returned it. When he did, the man seemed delighted then bowed deeply at him. Unsure about how to respond to Yao's strange mannerisms, Alfred mimicked the bow. "Mine is Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. It's a pleasure."

"Jones? Matthew said his was Williams, aru. Aren't the two of you twins?"

Said twins shared an amused look. They have received similar reactions on the rare occasion they introduced themselves to others. Matthew shrugged at him then focused his attention back to his bear, leaving his brother to answer Yao. "As thankful as I am to you for coming to our aid, I don't quite trust you enough to reveal such personal stories."

"_Al,"_ Matthew scolded, whipping around and giving his brother a stern look.

Alfred responded with a you-asked-for-it look. Though his brother had a right to be shocked—they usually brushed off those kinds of questions. Even if this man was a Suit, the events of the previous day were catching up with Alfred—even with his _differences_ from humans, he could really have died. And he needed answers.

Yao mouth stretched to an amused smile that unnerved Alfred. There was something in the smile that spoke of archaic power that had him rethinking his earlier manners-be-damned attitude. "I understand. There is no need to explain then. However, would it be alright to ask you questions?"

"Would it be alright to ask _you_ questions?" Alfred returned rather rudely. _I'm surprised this guy hasn't ordered my execution._

There was a glint in the shorter man's eye. Yao was looking for something. And Alfred had a feeling that he believed the twins had it. "_Aiyah,_ of course it would be okay. Though there will be questions that I won't answer for my own reasons."

_Fair enough_. "Likewise," Alfred mumbled then took a seat on the ground beside his brother.

Matthew cast him a wary look but stayed silent. In the few situations where the twins had some sort of business to discuss, it was Alfred that usually did all the talking while Matthew observed their "business partner". But this man, Yao, was strange. It was as if the man had nothing to hide in the way he presented himself, but a feeling Matthew's gut told him that this man could be dangerous if he wanted to.

Yao motioned for Alfred to ask the first question. A lengthy list of questions ran through his mind. What happened to the river? Did his—Kumajiro's—boulder dam plan work? What happened to the assassin? Was that really the village lights he saw or some sort of mirage? But one question was more important than the others. "What injuries did my brother sustain? I want to know what exactly happened to him."

The other two men were speechless for a second. They were both giving him such incredulous looks that Alfred flushed. He faced his brother who the most surprised face he had seen him make in centuries."_What?"_

Matthew opened and closed his mouth a couple times, reminding Alfred of a fish out of water.

It was Yao that broke the silence with a chuckle. "I had expected your first question to be in concern with my identity."

"That was my third question," Alfred grumbled, taking sudden interest in the rug he was sitting on and missing Yao's eyebrows raise in surprise and curiosity.

"Third?"

"The second would have been whether or not any damage was done to the village or if any of the villagers were hurt," Alfred mumbled, shifting awkwardly under their stares. "I have priorities."

It was his turn to be surprised when Yao let out a boisterous laugh. Even Matthew turned his shocked face to the smaller man who was now clutching his stomach.

"And just what is so funny?" Alfred practically growl, irritated. _Is this guy really a Suit?_

"_Aiyah!_ Forgive me, Mr. Jones. After meeting all the people I have met, I never would have guessed that I am still capable of being surprised," Yao laughed, wiping a tear from his eyes.

Alfred grumbled to himself, not appreciating being laughed at even though it was not mal-intended.

The Spades man cleared his throat. "Mr. Williams was unconscious from the loss of blood due to the lengthy laceration on his left—"

"AL! What the hell—?" Matthew cried.

Upon hearing Yao mention a 'lengthy laceration', Alfred immediately grabbed at his brother's shirt. "Sit still and let me see—!"

"Get. Off. Me. I'm _okay!_"

"OKAY MY ASS! I saw your blood—"

"Well, you're not seeing it _now,_ are you?"

"Lift your damn shirt!"

"NO!"

"MATTIE!"

Matthew, knowing that his protective brother would not stop until he was sure that his twin was alright by his standards, relented. Alfred inspected his brother's skin. As usual, it was paler than his with the normal imperfections of a lumberjack profession. However, there was not a single sign of the laceration Yao spoke of. No scars. No bandages. As if the profusely bleeding wound that had scarred his mind never existed.

He lowered Matthew's shirt then clasped his brother's shoulder. In his head, he could still see the blood—still _feel_ the blood that stained his brother's shirt. "I already said I was fine," Matthew said softly, pulling his brother in an one-armed hug. "I'm tougher than I look."

"Yeah, you are," Alfred chuckled dryly and returned the embrace. Matthew could be the strongest person in the entire planet and Alfred would still fuss over him.

Both brothers turned back to Yao. The Spades man a soft look in his eyes, as if nostalgic memories were playing in his mind. "You're a sweet brother," he remarked without the condescending tone that Alfred somewhat expected.

Alfred's face flamed red. He had completely forgotten that the Suit was there. He grumbled his thanks while Matthew gave Yao an appreciative smile.

"Now," Yao announced with a tone that brought back the business-like atmosphere, "My question, aru; would either of you like some tea?"

"What?" Alfred blurted. That certainly wasn't what he was expecting.

"Tea," Yao repeated with a disarming smile. Apparently he liked to return the surprise of asking unpredictable first questions.

"Uh, sure," Alfred mumbled, looking around for the kettle. There wasn't one. Nor was there a fire. "Where—"

The Spades man waved his hand leisurely. A silver tray with three steaming cups to tea and large white kettle appeared between him and the twins. Both Matthew and Alfred flinched in surprise—the latter reacting more lively than the other. "H-how did you do that?"

"Magic," Yao replied simply, as if it was the most obvious answer—which it was. "I assume that was your question, now it's my turn. How old are the two of you?"

Alfred grumbled to himself about an off-guard not being counted before replying, "We're twins—" he glanced at Matthew who shook his head "—and we're nineteen."

Yao raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"I'm quite certain it's my turn to ask," Alfred replied, looking the Suit straight in the eye. "Like I said, my second question is this; what happened to the river—the village—after you found us?"

"I'm quite sure you saw the lights not too far from this camp, aru. Yes, that is your precious village, and it still stands. No thanks to you though," Yao answered, voice turning cold, ancient brown eyes bearing down on Alfred. "Whatever plan you had involving those boulders failed—unless, of course, you were intending to destroy the village."

"No!" Alfred practically screamed. _How dare he think that?_

"Then what were you thinking?" Yao snapped at him. "What happened to the previous dam that required to use giant rocks to stop a monster of a river?"

Alfred was taking deep breaths, not letting his hot temper get the best him. _Who was this man to assume such things of me? Suit or not, it didn't matter, he has no right._ But before he could reply, the coldness from outside seeped into the room.

"My brother would never purposely hurt or endanger anyone," Matthew growled.

The other two men looked at the most quiet one of them in alarm. _Never_ in the centuries he had known his brother had Alfred heard him use such a threatening tone.

But Yao didn't seem threatened and met the twins glares coolly. "The dam that was established nearly five centuries ago was meant to last several millennia. It would not have fallen unless its foundation was sabotaged. Do you have an explanation for that?"

"Matthew was about to be killed." Alfred's voice came out as warning. "Excuse me if I was desperate to do _anything _to save him." _Several millennia, my ass. It would have fallen within the century with the state it was in._

"Even if the cost was the lives of all the villagers?" Yao asked, his voice becoming dangerously low.

Alfred flinched. Brother or not, he couldn't justify what he did. He didn't even remember hesitating when he ripped the dam apart.

"Yes," Matthew answered for him. "And I would do the same if our positions were switched."

Matthew continued to glare at Yao, ignoring his brother's astonished look. He knew that Alfred was an idiot, but he was a caring one. All they had left was each other. He understood what his brother did and, he, without a doubt, would do the same.

Yao remained quiet, analyzing the twins with those judging eyes. He let a huff before motioning to them. "Your question?" His tone returning to an aloof attitude.

Guilt and rage were swirling in Alfred's stomach. He knew that if he opened his mouth right now, he would regret it. He nodded towards Matthew, whose cold temper warmed up much faster than Alfred's hot temper cooled down.

Matthew, still eying the Spades man warily, thought for a moment. "How old are you?"

Yao raised an eyebrow, a friendly and curios shine returning in his features. "Twenty-eight."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't believe you're nineteen."

"And what makes you think that?" Alfred asked, reigning control over his disappearing temper.

"What makes _you_ think I'm not twenty-eight?" Yao countered.

"He asked first," Matthew returned.

"Why would I give you the answer when you already know the answers yourselves, aru? Seems like a waste of a question to me." Yao poured himself another cup of tea as the twins contemplated what he said.

The man sipping tea before them looked to be the age he claimed to be, but that number didn't sit right with either twin. Alfred felt something archaic about this man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

After a while, Yao sighed. "Nine-thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine. I'll be ten thousand in a couple months."

"Seven-hundred and fifty-six," Matthew mumbled automatically as he and Alfred gaped at the man.

Yao flashed them a disarming smile. Then Alfred found his voice. "That's not possible! you can't be nearly ten thousand!"

"And it's possible to be over seven hundred? That hardly seems fair, aru."

The twins took a moment to consider this.

At their silence, Yao placed his cup back on its saucer and watched them carefully. "Did you assume yourselves the only ones with immortality?"

Isolated as the were, that was exactly what the twins thought. "Agelessness, yes," Alfred mumbled. "But we don't think ourselves immortal."

"Nor were we the only ones," Matthew added.

Yao raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Alfred glanced at his brother who merely shrugged. He couldn't tell if Matthew felt the same, but a voice in his head was telling him that this man was trustworthy despite being dangerous. As if this man was meant to help him. "Do you know why I broke the dam?" Alfred asked suddenly, flinching at admitting to what he had done.

Yao shifted to a position that allowed to get a closer look at the twins without moving from where he sat. "Was it not to save your brother?"

"From what?"

"Death."

"By what?"

The Spades man was quiet for a moment. "Are you implying that you were attacked?"

Alfred nodded while Matthew gulped down his entire cup of tea and reached for his brother's untouched cup. "Matthew was about to be killed—he had collapsed and there was no way I could save him."

The ancient thought for a moment. "How did you know that you would survive the flood?"

"I didn't," Alfred replied, his voice firm and painfully honest.

"So you would sacrifice everything to stay together," Yao mumbled to himself, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

There was a tense silent as the Suit contemplated what he had just heard as the twins fidgeted. Matthew had finished both their cups of tea and was eying the kettle. Realizing that the strange man wasn't paying attention to either of them, Alfred reached over and filled both their cups and handed them to his brother.

"You were attacked." It wasn't a question. Alfred heard it was a statement for him to confirm, which he did with a nod after replacing the kettle. "Why?"

Alfred leaned back on his hand while the other scratched his head. "I can't quite remember what she said—"

"_She? _I thought you were attacked by an animal!" Yao exclaimed, nearly knocking down the kettle.

"No, an assassin. Matt, do you remember what she said?" Alfred asked his twin.

Matthew absentmindedly scratched a sleeping Kumajiro behind the ears. "It think it was something along the lines of us being born. Or just existing for that matter."

"That sounds about right," Alfred agreed then turned back to the Suit. "She's been at it for a while—Holy Hand!"

The twins were cautious of their next movements. Yao's face had darkened dangerously. Alarm bells were going off in Alfred's head telling him to get his and Matthew's asses out of there _as soon and as far as possible_. Even Kumajiro, now fully awake, seemed to sense the change in atmosphere and growled lowly to show his agitation but soft enough not to anger the potential source of danger.

"How long?" Yao all but growled.

"W-what?" Alfred stammered, mind not functioning properly with all the fight-or-flight thoughts buzzing about.

"How long has this assassin been after you?"

Alfred swallowed. "Five-hundred and twenty-three years, give or take."

Yao rose to his feet. The twins did the same but not as graceful. They shuffled towards the wall of the tent, staying out of the Suit's way as much as possible. The Spades man was no doubt livid, at what they didn't know but prayed that it wasn't directed at them.

The brothers crept towards Kumajiro as Yao glided towards his desk. The ancient's temper was not fiery like Alfred's nor icy like Matthew's. No, it was a darkness. A dark arrow of fear that shot through the poor soul that had the misfortune to induce the wrath of an ancient Suit.

Said man whirled around, blazing brown eyes pinning the twins were they stood. In his hand where two ornately decorated rectangles. More specifically, they were playing cards—the King and Ace of Spades to be exact. "Look at these cards. Examine them _carefully._ Then tell me if anything—_absolutely anything_—looks familiar."

Matthew shoved Alfred forward. Slightly irked and feeling like a sacrifice, Alfred inched towards Yao's extended hand. He shakily took the cards then hurried back to Matthew. Yao stayed where he stood, taking the moment to calm his rage.

Alfred handed the King of Spades to Matthew before inspecting the Ace of Spades in his hand. It was a lavishly decorated card with a picture of a white-bearded man holding a grand sword. Motifs of blue and purple dominated the design, but that was not what his azure eyes zeroed on. The corner of the card held a decorated letter 'A' with a design that resembled feathers of a wing.

He turned the card towards the significantly calmer Yao and pointed at the symbol. "This sym—_insignia_—I've seen it before."

"And I've seen this one too," Matthew mumbled, pointing at the 'K' on his card.

A world-weary smile appeared in the Suit's face, his rage mostly if not entirely reigned. "And where have you seen them, aru?"

Wordlessly, Alfred pointed at Matthew's shoulder just as he pointed at Alfred's chest. Yao held his hand out, silently asking for the return of his cards. The twins did just that. After a second, Matthew pulled at his sleeve and Alfred at his collar, revealing the marks Insignia's they had identified on each other.

Sure enough, the black Sign of the King of Spades was tattooed over Alfred's heart while Matthew revealed the exact same 'A' that Alfred found on the card on his shoulder.

Before they could fix their clothing to cover their respective Insignias, Yao bowed deeply. "We have been looking for the two of you for centuries now," Yao sighed tiredly. "It is an honor to be in your presence, Matthew Williams, Ace of Spades, and Alfred Jones, the Almighty King of Spades. May your reign, from henceforth, last as long as the Hand himself."

* * *

**I had another section after this but this was more dialogue than I had planned on writing:/**


	5. Chapter 4 - Of Mortal Men

"_During times of peace, the sons bury their fathers, but in war it is the fathers who send their sons to the grave" -Herodotus*_

* * *

**Of Mortal Men**

"Feliciano."

Ludwig shook the Jack snoozing on his shoulder. The Vargas brothers were only second to Antonio Carriedo and Herakles Karpusi, the Nine of Hearts, in the most-likely-to-be-found-asleep unofficial contest of the Hearts Suit. However, it wasn't like the Jack to fall asleep in such an important meeting. Ludwig had thought that his friend,being an artist and art enthusiast, would be especially interested in the glyphs that Nine Karpusi had found and reported about.

The King shook him again. Feliciano mumbled something unintelligible and snuggled closer to his King. Ludwig froze, and convinced himself that the redness brushing his cheeks were _only_ because the entire Suit were curiously watching as he tried to reclaim his arm. Even to them, it was strange enough that the Jack had fallen sound asleep. Stranger still was that the King allowed a man to be so comfortably laying on him. At least, that's what Ludwig assumed his fellow Suits were thinking.

Instead of yelling at him like he would usually to wake him, Ludwig shook him harder. "Jack Vargas, the meeting is over. You must wake."

Feliciano furrowed his brow and mumbled something that Ludwig was only able to hear due to their proximity. "...no…"

Alarmed, Ludwig unconsciously reached out and wrapped his arm around the Jack. "Feliciano!" He _almost _cried, shaking and cradling the man at the same time. "Wake—"

"_Oi! I'm going to throw away the pasta if you don't wake up!_" Lovino screeched from across the room, making half of the Suits jump in surprise.

And like magic, Feliciano's eyes snapped open and he jumped to his feet. "No! You can't do that!"

Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose as Lovino growled fake threats of throwing away their favorite dish while Feliciano pleaded for mercy. Several of the Suit amused themselves by joining into the argument. Four Klaus Hoffman and Five Anouk Boeckmann were currently, and unsuccessfully, trying to calm Lovino's explosive temper as Queen Kiku Honda, Three Mei Ling and Two Lin Yi Ling attempted to console the distressed Jack.

"Enough!" Ludwig had meant to say it strictly, but instead the command came with a general's tone that demanded, and received, the Suits' attention. The King sighed and stood, the others doing the same. "Are there any others who wish to make a report?"

The Suits glanced at each other, and when no one spoke up, turned back to Ludwig. "Then, as the Authoritative King of Hearts, Ludwig Beilschmidt, I now declare this meeting over and give you permission to—"

"Your Majesty!" The great doors of the Conference Hall burst open. A messenger, panting and sweating profusely, had his eyes trained desperately on his King. The Suit collectively felt that the man's increased heart rate and gulps were from something more than racing the halls of the palace.

"King...Beilschmidt…" the messenger panted. Ludwig patiently waited for the man to catch his breath. The meeting had gone on long enough that he and the other Suits were no doubt hoping that this matter that was about to be presented was a minor thing.

"The...dungeonmaster…" _The dungeonmaster?_ The last time there was a problem in the dungeons was last year, when several prisoners were found to be dead. There was a minor panic amongst the King's men of a plague, but the corpses showed signs of lacerations on vital places rather than sickness. _That issue was never solved..._

"Are you okay?" Feliciano asked, motioning for someone, _anyone_ give the man a glass of water. Six Andre Esteves, after making eye contact with the Jack, stepped forward and handed the man his untouched glass.

The messenger accepted the water gratefully and gulped it all down. Remembering that he was in the presence of the thirteen most powerful beings in the entire kingdom, he snapped up straight, displaying immaculate posture, and addressed the Suit a whole formally. "The dungeonmaster's son, Lieutenant Zuruck, has been killed. The guards are currently investigating the scene and following every lead—"

"How long ago?" Ludwig asked.

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago, my Liege."

"Have any of the prisoners escaped?" Kiku inquired, giving voice to Ludwig's forming thoughts of a possible break out.

"We are still searching all the cells, my Queen, but…" the messenger trailed off, leaving the Suit irritatedly curious. However much patience the Hand had blessed him with, Ludwig found it running thin, but composed himself and waited for the man to continue.

"Spit it out," Lovino growled at the man. For once, Ludwig was grateful of his short temper because it had intimidated the messenger enough to get through his nervous pause.

"Forgive me, my Ace, but the Joker's cell has been reported empty. I had checked the cell myself along with the Captain of the Guard. He is currently assembling a search party—"

"That will not be necessary," Ludwig declared. The man silenced himself as his sovereign once again called all attention in the room. "A Joker on the loose is no minor threat to any kingdom. As Suits, we must personally find and detain this Joker." Ludwig turned to the messenger. "Inform the Captain of the Guard of his new orders: he is to leave all matter of the Joker's escape to the Suit, unless inquired by one of us, and instead focus on the dungeonmaster's murder. If his investigation leads to the Joker, then he is to abandon it as well and leave it to us."

The messenger bowed deeply before hurrying back through the doors. Once his footsteps disappeared, Ludwig continued, "Security in all the major cities must be increased. Any spare men we have should patrol through the smaller, outer villages. But do so in a way that will not cause an alarm to the civilians. The peoples' safety is, foremost, our priority as the Suit of this kingdom."

"King Beilschmidt," Eight Willem Boeckmann addressed in his gruff voice as the provincial Suits nodded, "the detainment of the Black Joker is one of the essential aspects of our relations with the Spades Monarchy. Without a doubt, this will cause more than just domestic problems for us."

It was the Queen who replied, "Yes, which makes the situation more urgent." Kiku was familiar with both the Queen and Jack of Spades. Ludwig had no second thoughts in trusting him in dealings involving the blue royals.

"Ten Carriedo, Ace Vargas, and Seven Karpusi," Ludwig called in his this-is-an-order tone as the Suits stood a little straighter, "you will accompany myself, the Queen and the Jack to the dungeons. Eight Boeckmann and Six Esteves, you are to relay my orders to the generals and assemble the troops. Nine Karpusi, you are to continue your research once your province has been taken care of. The rest of you, mobilize the troops in your respective provinces and ensure the safety of our citizens."

The Suits faced their royals, faces grim. The air had completely changed from the casual closing of a meeting to one that foreshadowed w—_Nein, I refuse to let the situation get to that._ They saluted the royals then filed out of the Conference Hall to carry out their orders. Antonio, Lovino and Heracles' brother, Xever, waited as the King, Queen and Jack descended from their high table and then followed them to the dungeons.

The weather outside was _mockingly_ peaceful. Ludwig could feel the routine of his people in his veins, their lives powering his heart, the teetering stability of the markets at the back of his neck, the progress of the nation in his spine, and the small restraint tension of the so-called Clockwork Hammer rebels somewhere in his gut. It was a minor sensation, but Ludwig had no intention of waiting until disaster hit to pay them any attention. Especially with a Joker on the loose…

Hearts wasn't in turmoil, but by no means was it in peace. If a nation-wide event were to occur, Ludwig would _feel_ it immediately. As the King, he _was_ the nation. Other Suits could get a small inkingling of the happenings of the kingdom, but only the King can get a full idea of state the kingdom was in.

Little was known about the Jokers other than their chaotic natures and insatiable thirst for mischief. This didn't surprise anyone in the Suit at all—they only knew a bit more about themselves than the Jokers.

_Forgive me, Arthur. _Ludwig rubbed his temples as they neared the dungeons. He wondered how the Queen of Spades and the other Kirkland brothers would react when they learn about their brother's disappearance—his heart cringed painfully. He knew _exactly_ how they would feel—his own brother was a Joker after all.

Ignoring the full view of the capital city below, Ludwig turned down a windowless corridor, sky blue eyes trained upon the steel door that led to the dungeons. He forced his pace to stay steady but did nothing to stop his hand from tightening around _Innerste_, the Hearts Royal Greatsword, that was bouncing on his hip.

The steel door opened and a handful guards poured out then saluted the Suits. "Would you—um, which would you see first, my Liege? The cell or the—the soldier?" One of them asked shakily.

Ludwig placed a comforting hand on the guard shoulder, reaching forward and letting him feel the assurance of the nation. "Just take me down there, son."

Dazed for a moment, the guard nodded and motioned for them to follow. The other guards quickly surrounded them as they descended to the dungeons. Ludwig had never understood why—perhaps it was trained into them—mortal humans were protecting them when they were the ones with higher chances of surviving an assassination attempt.

Faint sniffles crescendoed to racking sobs as they reached the threshold of the bottom most level of dungeons—not too far from where the Joker's cell was supposed to be. The body of the soldier was hidden from the Suits' view by the archway. However, they could perfectly see the heart-wrenching scene of a strong man on his hands and knees.

Ludwig took a moment and pulled on his knowledge as the nation. The memories of the deceased man were becoming blurry, but he could see that the soldier had a family—a father who was the dungeonmaster, a mother currently carrying his future younger brother, and two little sisters beginning their second year of classes. To verify this, he searched the memories of the supposed family. The King gritted his teeth—the boy was too young for this. He turned to the Captain of the Guard. "This is the boy's father, isn't he?"

The Captain's mouth opened in surprised. "Y-yes, sire. The Lieutenant was making rounds in this level. He was to return seven minutes ago. When he didn't, his father became worried and found him...like that. He refused to leave and none of us, uhm, had the heart to force him."

_He found his son like this? _The guards stepped outside as Ludwig entered the level, followed by a hesitant Feliciano. He felt the Jack tentatively place a hand on the crook of his elbow. Ludwig unconsciously placed a hand on his and squeezed lightly. The Jack let out a squeak and hid behind his king when the he caught sight of the body.

Ludwig grimaced then glanced at the other Suits. Each of them—even the usually expressionless Queen—showed visible signs of discomfort. They had all suffered through violence—Antonio was a former pirate, Kiku was born into a war zone, Xever served as a soldier before becoming a Suit like Ludwig. They were no strangers to death, but this particular one shook the foundations of whatever peaceful picture they had for their kingdom. Relative peace was an illusion—only there for those too afraid to see reality. Ludwig forced down the thought that this wasn't the only death they would be seeing in the near future.

Feliciano sniffed behind him. Ludwig's sky blue eyes wandered over to him and the Ace. The Vargas brothers were the most recent additions to the Suit, and Ludwig hardly knew their pasts. But they look even more uncomfortable than the others. As much as he hated seeing Feliciano without his bright smile, the King made his choice.

* * *

"Ten Carriedo, Ace and Jack Vargas will stay here and see to this matter. Captain, take me, Queen Honda and Seven Karpusi to the Joker's cell."

Those were the King's orders. Feliciano tore his eyes from the body and met Ludwig's gaze. The King offered no comforting smile, but the weight of his hand on his shoulder and the warmth of his body nearby was enough to give the Jack the strength to face the grieving father.

He kept his attention on the sobbing man until the others' footsteps disappeared further into the dungeons. Taking a deep breath, Feliciano stepped forward and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. The Queen of Spades may be the greatest spell-wielder in all of Deck, but not even he could perform healing magic to the level the Jack of Hearts could.

After several gasps, the dungeon master was able to gather his wits. "F-forgive me, my Lord...but my son..."

"Mourn for him, Dungeon Master Zuruck. No one will bear you any ill-will if you let your tears flow," Feliciano soothed, sending slight waves of calming magic towards the sobbing father.

Out of the corner of his eye, Antonio approached one of the guards and exchanged a few serious whispers while Romano approached the Lieutenant's body. With a small wave of his hand, a couple guards—friends of the dungeon master, if their sympathetic faces were anything to go by—surrounded the grieving man and led him away from his son's body. Once he was safely out of earshot, Feliciano turned to his brother.

"Deep laceration on his throat," Lovino muttered, drawing his eyes away from the body he was crouched over. "As you can see, his back plate armor is missing, but if we turn him over, it's a pretty safe bet that the front chest plate would still be there."

"Lovi—"

"What I'd like to know, is why remove the back of the armor plate? Why bother if you were just going fucking slit his throat and—"

"_Romano!_" Feliciano hissed, placing a firm hand on his brother's subtly shaking shoulders. Just as he thought, Romano was only putting up a front—the Vargas brothers, though not unfamiliar with death, avoided pain and suffering—regardless if it was theirs or not— as much as they could. It was simply not something they could stomach. "It's okay, if you don't want to—"

Lovino returned Feliciano's soft look with one of hardened steel. "Maybe if it was for our own sakes, Veneziano," he growled under his breath then turned his gaze back to the Lieutenant's body. "I have a terrible feeling that this death will be the first of many that will come too soon."

Feliciano's eyes widened then dropped to the corpse. His brother was right—had they been the ones in pain, he could have ignored it. But this life left behind a father, a mother, two sisters, an unborn brother, and Hand knows how many friends. The dungeon master's sobs turned to sniffles somewhere behind him. _For the sake of any one of our people, we can't turn away from this._

Sharing a silent look with his brother, they steeled themselves and investigated the body, determined to put find justice for Lieutenant Zuruck's death. As Lovino had pointed out, a straight incision ran clear cross his throat and the pool of blood beneath was more than enough to prove that the cause of the man's death was indeed a laceration on the major veins on his throat.

The next question to tackle was the armor. The back plate was removed but the chain mail remained. No damage was inflicted onto the garment. At first glance, everything seemed fine, but Feliciano's artist-trained eyes caught something that most others would glance over—a strange discoloration among the chain links. Slipping the white glove off his hand, he brushed his fingers over the discoloration and found that a black powder was smudged over his fingers.

"Ash?" Lovino whispered, peridot eyes trained on Feliciano's movements.

Suddenly, the Jack's face grew dark, his amber eyes focusing as he began chanting. Lovino, recognizing the counter curse his brother was uttering, joined him. Their chanting diverted all attention towards them, but that was ignored and remained so until the spell was removed from Feliciano's fingertips.

"Did anyone else touch the body?" Antonio asked the guards as the Vargas brother completed the counter curse.

"I-I did, my Lord," Zuruck Senior stuttered.

"It's okay, brother Tonio," Feliciano said softly but was heard by all. "This curse is only passed to those who touch the mark. Thankfully, it's a weak curse that can be dealt with immediately and without worry."

As his younger brother explained this, Lovino drew a dagger hidden within the folds of his expensive maroon coat. After enchanting it to have a sharper edge and only damaging the chain mail, he sliced through the armor to reveal the lieutenant's partially burned tunic underneath.

When the Ace revealed the curse mark burned into Zuruck Jr.'s body, the spell-wielding twins jumped into action. Feliciano quickly magicked barrier spells between the guards and the body. Antonio was a Suit, a powerful one, and would have a Hand-given tolerance against small mal-intended spells. Lovino began chanting counter-curse and charms that would deflect the curse's effects to him and his brother instead of anyone else.

"Lovi—" Antonio began, his hand making a motion that summoned his trusted axe to his palm. He may not have a large affinity with magic, but the magic the brothers were using were basic enough for him to somewhat understand.

"Stay back," Lovino growled between spells.

"It's okay," Feliciano told the older Suit. "The curse doesn't seem to be serious—in fact, it's nearly laughable. These are just precautions we are taking in case there is something we missed."

Antonio was on edge the entire time the brothers were inspecting the body. Lovino had made him stand on the other side of the Jack's barrier while they stayed on the side with the body. They had placed charms on themselves that would dispel the curse's effects immediately. Feliciano had assured the dungeon master that his son's body was not defiled and the curse and it's effects were easily removed.

"I don't think we can even classify this as a curse," Feliciano whispered to his brother as they warily inspected the symbol on the body. "It's more of a warning, or a foreshadowing."

"There's also no doubt that it was the Joker that placed it there," Lovino grumbled, identifying the magical residue, as they approached Antonio.

"Lovi," Antonio whispered, "the symbol—describe it to me. I may not know a lot about magic but I've lived long enough to interpret magical symbols."

The two brothers glanced at each other nervously, not knowing what the symbol made by Joker could possibly mean. Feliciano sighed and removed the barrier and, after a silent moment, deemed the curse to be harmless enough to allow the guards near the body _without_ touching it.

Lovino motioned for Antonio to follow them as they retreated out of the chamber and out of the guards' earshot. "The symbol on Lieutenant Zuruck was easily recognizable," Feliciano started. "But it's meaning is a different story. I would not deem it wise to have it removed until the King and Queen have seen it."

Antonio swallowed, unused to a gravely serious Feliciano. "Jack Vargas, can you tell me what the symbol looked like?"

Feliciano shook his head and immediately retreated to the lower levels of the dungeons to find the Kiku and Ludwig.

"Lovi," Antonio called out, giving up.

"If he doesn't want to tell you what the damn symbol is, then you'll have to wait for potato-head to announce it—"

"No, it's not that. It's just that—the walk from the Conference Hall to the dungeons did not require for us to go outside. It also hadn't rained the past few days."

"What are you getting at?" Lovino grumbled impatiently.

Antonio ran a gloved hand through his brown curls. "Why is Feli covered in mud?"

* * *

"It was a good move to keep Feliciano there, Ludwig," Kiku voiced as the Captain led them to the Joker's cell. "If there was anyone who could comfort a man who had lost a loved one, it would be Feliciano."

Ludwig eyed Kiku carefully. Dressed in large purple kimono and a red robe draped over narrow shoulders, the Queen and his close friend looked to be a simple, peace-loving man. However, it had always unnerved the King when Kiku would voice his very thoughts as he was thinking them—yet, Ludwig could never get a single inkling of what the man was thinking.

As far into the dungeons as they were, torch lamps became the sole source of light. It didn't take long before the Captain stopped before a heavy metal door. Unlike the other cells, this one had a level all to its own. Unlike the other cells, this one was closed off by a wall of iron instead of just bars of the metal. Unlike the other cells, this one looked like it hadn't been opened for centuries. And unlike the other cells, this one had a mangled rock sitting on the ground before it.

The Captain cleared his throat. "With the lock like that, we assumed that the prisoner wouldn't still be squatting in there, sire. We daren't open the door without your permissions."

"Good man," the King praised then dismissed the Captain as Xever bent to pick up the broken lock.

"I wouldn't," Kiku warned. "Remember, this is a _magical _lock that was enchanted by Queen Kirkland. It also came in a pair. The other is what the Spades are using to keep the Red Joker detained."

Ludwig flinched involuntarily when he said _Joker_.

"I do not doubt Queen Kirklands abilities, having witnessed them myself," Xever started as he stepped away from the lock. "But could the possibility of a mistake on his spellcasting lead to _this _be valid?"

For a moment, the King almost thought this suggestion to be a valid explanation. Suits were born human after all—human error, though rare, was possible for them. But he shook his head. "All Spell-wielders within the Suit were present as he performed the ritual," Ludwig thought out loud then turned to the Queen. "You were present at the time, _ja_?"

"_Hai_, I was. As were Jack Wang of Spades, Six Bondevik of Diamonds, Eight Serghei of Clubs and our own Hera—Nine Karpusi. We, along other minor Spell-wielders in the each Suit ensured that the reinforcement charm placed in these locks and their casting of the spell precise. I can personally ensure that the spell was perfect—no mistakes were made."

"Then the answer is simple; something or _someone_ was able to ruin a lock built by the finest blacksmiths with the strongest steel ever discovered and reinforced by the most potent of spells and the most powerful Spell-wielder," Ludwig pointed out. "We made a mistake, now is the time to fix it—wait, did you say this lock was part of a pair?"

Kiku suddenly gasped. "These locks are magically linked. If one of them was broken…"

"Then the other would just as damaged if not worse," Xever finished, dark eyes widening.

"What can we discern from the lock itself?" Ludwig asked the two magic users.

This time both the Queen and the Seven bent over the lock but refused to touch it. "It would seem, Ludwig," Kiku mumbled after a moment, "that it was broken nearly twenty minutes ago, and that an immense power was responsible for its failure."

"Xever," Ludwig said after a moment, "I understand that you have recently begun studying magic under your brother. Are you able to send a message to the Queen and Jack of Spades via wisp from here?"

Seven Karpusi nodded. "As long as it is a simple message and would be the only one you would need to send within the next hour or two, my Liege."

The King considered his options. Wisps were the fastest modes of message over long distances. They can only be received by magic users—which would be any of Suits for they have a higher amount of magic in them than the average human. The Karpusi brothers were the strongest Spell-wielders in all of Hearts, aside from the Jack who only new healing magic and the Queen who refused to use magic for an unspoken reason, but neither were as strong as the Queen of Spades.

After sorting through priorities and the pros and cons of each option, the King said, "Create a wisp and dedicate it to Queen Kirkland and Jack Wang. The possibility of a breach in their security of my br—of the Red Joker is no longer what we presumed. Warn them of what has transpired here then—"

"Ludwig!"

_Feliciano_.

In a split second, the King of Hearts whirled around, slid _Innerste_ from her sheath and pointed its dangerous tip towards stairs. Footsteps thundered down the spiraling stone steps. Suddenly, Feliciano appeared racing towards the point of his sword with the breakneck speed he takes on when he was terrified. Bracing himself and with a slight turn of his wrist, Ludwig pointed _Innerste_ away long enough to catch the frightened Jack that barrelled towards his chest.

"Feliciano?" Kiku tried to coax an answer out him, but he was trembling too much to say a word.

It didn't matter because there was a light coming down the stairs. It would have been normal if there were footsteps accompanying the light. But only a red orb of light came bounding towards them. A small voice told him that the orb was harmless, but years of battle instinct had him turning so his body stood between the Jack and the oncoming light, and keeping his sword straight and true.

When the orb of light finally stopped before them, Ludwig felt the magical trace of whoever had sent the wisp—Arthur Kirkland of Spades. As a precaution, he did not lower his sword until Kiku had confirmed that the wisp was no threat and only contained a message.

"It's from Arthur," Kiku said. "Do you think it has something to do with the Joker?"

"Unlikely, my Queen," Xever answered. "Unless they are having problems with their own captive Joker."

"There's only one way to find out," Ludwig said, sheathing _Innerste_. "Let us hear that message—Feliciano. Let. Go. Off. Me."

"Ve~but you're so warm!" The Jack pointed out and proceeded to snuggle his chest.

"_Let go!_" The King growled, flushing as he pried the smaller man from him. "Kiku, do you know why the wisp was following Feliciano?"

The Queen shook his head. "My guess would be that he is or one of the recipients of the message it carries."

Kiku inspected the messenger wisp while Ludwig lifted the smiling idiot and set him on the ground beside him. "It appears that only the ranks Jack, Queen and King are the only ones that can receive this message. Very well then." The Queen of Hearts held out his hand. The wisp immediately flew to his palm then pulsed as a voiced flowed out of it.

"_This is Arthur Kirkland, Queen of Spades, highest power of Spades until his Majesty, the King, is found. This message is exclusively for the ears of the King of Hearts, Ludwig Beilschmidt, his Queen, Kiku Honda, and their Jack, Feliciano Veneziano Vargas_—_and it is within my request that only the previously listed people be the first to hear the contents of this message._—"

Xever silently saluted his Royals then climbed the stairs to where the Ace and Ten of Hearts were no doubt waiting. As soon as Seven Karpusi's steps faded, the Queen allowed the wisp to continue.

"—_Further, it is the Hearts Royals' choice to share this message to their fellow Suit and to their Council should they deem it necessary."_

"Arthur is playing it safe," Kiku whispered. "Whatever this is must be important and has influence to future events if he is giving himself deniability."

Ludwig nodded in agreement, far too invested in the Spades Queen's message to be unnerved of how his own Queen voiced his exact thoughts.

"_First and foremost, I apologize to you, King Ludwig Beilschmidt. You have entrusted me and Jack Yao Wang in the detainment of the Red Joker, Gilbert Beilschmidt. It is with great shame that I inform you of our failure. At approximately 3:06 this morning, the Joker had somehow broken out of his cell, three hours before the Jack had discovered it. I sent this wisp as soon as I found out. These locks are paired, and I pray to the Great Hand that you receive this message before any unsavory events occur._

"_This message is an apology as well as a request for a meeting. The escape of a Joker can be catastrophic, therefore, all matters of their escape must be investigated and the finding of them must be prioritized. This situation will require more than the attention and power of a full Suit, which the Spades are currently lacking. As your closest ally and fellow Major Suit, I am requesting a meeting of all the Royals of Deck in order to discuss the situation and any future actions to deal with it. As you know, only the rank of King can call such a meeting. I request that you make this call on my behalf if you agree. If not, then I request a meeting with the Hearts Royals for the same purpose._

"_An immediate answer is requested. This message is extractable and the wisp has enough power for a return trip to Spades. I trust Jack Vargas will know what to do. May the Great Hand hold you in his palm."_

As soon as Arthur's voice disappeared, Kiku nodded to Feliciano. With an inaudible mumble, the Jack began to extract Arthur's message. Or so Ludwig thought. Yes, he was familiar with certain types of magic—battle magic mostly—but something as simple as this was beyond him. When Feliciano retrieved the message—it looked like a white wisp sitting on the Jack's palm—the wisp from Arthur turned blue then pulsed, waiting for the King's message before beginning its return trip to Spades.

"This is the Ludwig Beilschmidt, King of Hearts. This message is for the ears of Arthur Kirkland, Queen of Spades, highest authority of Spades until their King is found, _exclusively_," Ludwig paused and made eye-contact with Kiku.

The Queen, understanding that Ludwig wanted a private moment to ask about his brother, nodded then led the Jack—who remained clueless of the atmosphere—by the arm up the stairs.

"Arthur, it is not only my brother that has broken free…"

* * *

"Feliciano."

"Yes, Queen Honda?" The Jack replied with his usual smile.

Kiku chuckled. "Ludwig may not have seen it, but I can."

"Ve? What are you talking about?"

The Queen and Jack were making their way up the stairs to where the dungeonmaster was mourning his son. Seconds after Feliciano had departed from his brother and Ten Carriedo, he started getting shivers from the overwhelming darkness of the lower levels of the dungeon. For as long as he could remember, Feliciano had always avoided the dark. He wasn't exactly afraid of it—just, _wary_. The sudden light from Arthur's wisp had surprised him enough to bolt blindly down the stairs to Ludwig.

"There is something bothering you, isn't there?" Kiku asked, stopping at the final step.

Feliciano looked up to his Queen, catching sight of Lovino and Antonio over his shoulder, with wide-eyes. "It's not every day that I inspect a dead body! Also, I feel awful for the dungeon master—I even thought to place a calming charm over him, but he has every right to mourn for the loss of his son and—"

"Jack Vargas," the Queen said firmly.

Feliciano sighed then dropped his smile. _A man of few words indeed_. "How did you know?"

"You always smile around Ludwig, no matter what is going on," Kiku explained simply, eyes softening. "I doubt you even notice yourself."

"Ludwig is my friend. Isn't it only natural to smile around him?" Feliciano asked, becoming more confused.

"You are not smiling right now, am I not your friend?"

"Oh! No—I mean, of course you are my friend! I just thought that—" Feliciano stopped himself from blabbering further. The small sparkle in his Queen's brown eyes meant that he was only joking—which is rare in itself.

"However, down there, whenever Ludwig wasn't looking towards you, a disturbed frown would appear," Kiku continued. Feliciano fought the shiver going down his spine—he had forgotten that Kiku was one of the most observant people in the world when it came to others. "What is troubling you?"

"It's the body," Feliciano heard himself mumbling. "It was Marked with a disguised curse. A Black Burn was placed on the Lieutenant's back, under his chain mail."

"On his tunic or…?"

Feliciano shook his head. "On his skin."

Kiku's face turned serious. "The Black Burn is usually a warning—a foreshadowing of a future curse. But a Mark can only be placed on someone's skin if it was a personal matter. Can we confirm that the Joker was the one that placed the Mark on Lieutenant Zuruck's back?"

"I had checked myself," Feliciano answered. "The trace was definitely the Black Joker's. But I don't think that it was the Lieutenant that Joker Kirkland had a personal vendetta against."

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"I had touched the Black Burn. A normal one wouldn't have any effect, but this one did. The effect was insignificant because I was not the intended target," Feliciano continued, scratching his head. "The obvious target of the Red Joker's would be Arthur, but I have my doubts."

Kiku, ever encouraging and helpful, said, "And why do you think that?'

Feliciano swallowed. He knew the answer—he knew why Arthur may not be the target. The real question was why not? "Because he has a bigger target," Feliciano muttered, realizing the answer.

"A target bigger than his own brother, the Queen of Spades?"

"Yea, because the Black Burn was drawn as the Insignia of the _King _of Spades."

* * *

**The Suit of Hearts**

**King Ludwig Beilschmidt (Germany)**

**Queen Kiku Honda (Japan)**

**Jack Feliciano Vargas (Italy Veneziano)**

**Ten Antonio Fernandez Carriedo (Spain)**

**Nine Herakles Karpusi (Greece)**

**Eight Willem Boeckmann (Netherlands)**

**Seven Xever Karpusi (Cyprus)**

**Six Andre Esteves (Portugal)**

**Five Anouk Boeckmann (Belgium)**

**Four Klaus Hoffman (Luxembourg)**

**Three Mei Ling (Vietnam)**

**Two Lin Yi Ling (Taiwan)**

**Ace Lovino Vargas (Italy Romano)**

**Not sure on all the human names but I like these so I'm keeping them :P**

**Eight Serghei is Romania and we'll meet him later on. Sorry for my late tumblr updates! Please Review:)**


	6. Chapter 5 - The Dragon's Stronghold

_"Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore." – Andre Gide_

* * *

**The Dragon's Stronghold**

Alfred usually thought of silences as synonymous to empty voids. That they were there because nothingness needed to be called _something_. That they were weightless, insignificant, _nonexistent_.

But the silence hanging over their dinner was different.

The night found the twins glaring daggers into their cold dinners. The unfortunate mashed potatoes and lamb chops suffered Alfred's wrath as he methodically reorganized his plate only to churn its contents once more while Matthew's sat in cold indifference.

"The sun has set," Matthew mumbled as Alfred flipped his uneaten lamb chomp over.

Busy hands paused as azure eyes flickered to the window. The pitch-black night sky seemed to mock him from outside—the sun had long disappeared behind the horizon without the twins noticing. Instead of pointing it out, Alfred simply replied with, "They'll be here soon."

It was the night after the fall of the dam—the night after they found out of their ranks. After Yao had bowed to him, the Jack blabbered on about the centuries and man power they had exhausted in order to find them when they were _right here all along_. Rendered speechless at this discovery, Alfred and Matthew merely stared open-mouthed as the Jack rejoiced.

The King-to-be threw his fork down in defeat. The mundane task of rearranging his plate had lost its charm. Matthew caught his eye for a moment before the brothers sighed. Alfred stretched his arms, grunting after a satisfying pop. There was a dull soreness on his body. There always had been since the birth of his blacksmithing business.

It was that same soreness, if not a little more than usual, that gave Alfred the comfort of an old friend. He and his brother had spent the entire day severing the handful of ties they had to the village—made easier thanks to their self-imposed isolation. Matthew, after meeting his lumbering quota for the day and resigning from the company, had assisted Alfred in finishing then delivering the last of his orders. They had been hard-pressed for time, but they had managed.

Sunset. That was the agreed time that they would be fetched then taken back to the capital. That was how long they had to make a choice; take the throne or stay in their mountains. Maybe Alfred was just being bitter, but the way Yao had worded the question was much nicer than the repeated version in his head.

"_Forgive me, bowing immediately to you has been trained into me for years. However, the throne is a choice. Whether you want to be crowned is entire up to the two of you. Yes, ruling the kingdom would be easier with a full Suit, but not impossible for an incomplete one."_

"_Even if the missing member is a King?" Matthew questioned Yao._

"_King, Ace, Three_—_it doesn't matter if the there are enough members of a Suit. The Diamonds itself has been running without a Queen for far longer than the Spades have without the two of you."_

"_Only in times of peace," Alfred had muttered, surprised at himself. "These aren't peaceful times. The full Suit is needed."_

_Yao only smiled. "Have you made your choice?"_

Alfred scoffed, glancing at the bags he and Matthew packed a few hours prior. _As if we could really go with the other choice,_ he thought bitterly, raising the glass of cold water to his parched lips. All that was left to do was to join the Jack's caravan back to the capital, meet the rest of the Suit, be crowned by the Queen—

Constriction of the throat. Cessation of air. Then water flying from his lips into all directions. "What the—?" Matthew exclaimed as coughs wracked his brother's body. "What's gotten into you?"

_Queen._ Alfred took a moment to catch his breath, dragging an arm across his mouth. _How could I forget that Spades had a Queen? Oh shit, do I have to marry her? _The realization of being a king had yet to catch up to him, but remembering that a queen actually existed was _not_ helping his nerves settle.

"...fred...Al!" Matthew was practically shaking him. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," he answered shakily. "Uh-yeah, I'm fine."

Matthew rubbed his shoulder for a while then stopped, lost in his own thoughts. "We've always kind of known, haven't we?"

Thankful for the distraction from his thoughts, Alfred turned all his attention to his brother. "Always known what?"

Pulling at his sleeve, Matthew revealed the Ace's Insignia on his shoulder. "An 'A' and a Spade. You have a 'K' and a Spade. It doesn't take that long to put two and two together."

Alfred sighed. "So you're saying that, for _over two-hundred years_, we've been subconsciously ignoring the fact that you and I are Ki—are supposed to go the capital?"

"Am I wrong?"

Growling slightly, Alfred crossed his arms and slouched further in his chair. He didn't like the creeping sense of dread on his stomach. _Shit._

Matthew shifted in his own seat. "It would explain why we've stayed in this village, in these mountains, for as long as we have."

"Born seven centuries ago. Signed five centuries later," Alfred muttered miserably.

"Two hundred years ago, we were supposed to join the Suit—"

"But look how the country's doing," Alfred interrupted. "For two hundred years, it's been standing on its own."

Matthew looked alarmed. "What are you trying to say, Al?"

Alfred scratched his golden locks frustratingly. "I'm saying, why now?" Thoughts began to form in his head. Thoughts that he could not fathom the origin of. Thoughts that woke him from his slump. Thoughts that he could not stop himself from sharing with his brother. "Isn't it a little too convenient? The _one_ time that we couldn't defeat the assassin is also the same time that Yao comes to the farthest reaches of Spades to find the King and Ace, which just so happen to be us."

"And the dam. Only the magic of an experienced Suit could keep it together after what you—after what happened," Matthew quickly amended at his brother's grimace. "Wh-what are you thinking? That someone planned this? Or simply the will of the Hand?"

"I don't know," Alfred sighed. "Either the Hand has something big planned or something important is about to happen." The soreness of his body had intensified a bit. Not enough to hurt, but enough to alarm Alfred. It was a different level of soreness from the usual one after day's worth of hammering metal.

Then Matthew hit the bullseye. "Are you having second thoughts about going to the capital?"

"No." Alfred's response was immediate and without doubt. And that scared him. He could think of a million reasons to stay as far away from the capital as possible. But he knew he couldn't. For Hand's sake _he knew he could not_.

"That's good. We're going to have to face this—whatever this is," Matthew sighed.

"You don't have to," Alfred heard himself say. "If you really don't want to…"

"It would be too quiet around here without you, bro," Matthew replied with a smile that lifted some weight from Alfred's shoulders. "Besides, you wouldn't last a day without me."

Alfred scoffed, not one to back out of a challenge, especially from his brother. "What are ya talking about? You do realize that when we get there, we are going to be requires to socialize. Last time I checked, that's not exactly your forte."

"Oh I don't think I have to worry about that. Not when all their attention would be, as per usual, focused entirely on you, my _King,"_ Matthew teased.

His smiling face immediately dropped. Alfred had flinched and gone deathly pale. _He was just teasing me, dammit! Why am I feeling like this?_

"H-hey, Al, I didn't mean-no, not like that-I just—" Matthew stammered, dark purplish eyes wide with worry. He was out of his seat and rounded the table in half second then knelt beside his brother.

Guilt pooled in Alfred's stomach. "Y-yeah, I know Mattie. I know you—didn't mean that." He let Matthew pull him to a hug then sighed into his shoulder. "It's true though. The entire kingdom's eyes will be on me. Expecting only Hand knows what."

"They'll be expecting a lot from the entire Suit. They—_we_ rule over them after all. Running a country; it's not a one-man job. You're not alone, bro. You never were."

_Hand bless you._ Alfred felt his eyes sting. Matthew was right. He would not last a day without his brother.

There was a knock on the door.

Alfred had expected Yao at the door, but when he opened it, Jett flashed them a smile while Malcolm shivered miserably. Shouldering the packs, the four of them braved through the accelerating winds and the icy teeth of the snow swallowing their feet. Not even the furs they were wearing helped with the journey to the Jack's camp.

The trip was short, but the early winter made it long and somewhat eventful. Unless they wanted to yell over the wind, conversation was damn near impossible. There was a moment when the wind died, and Jett refused to let the opportunity go to waste.

"Living together for as long as we have, the Suit doesn't usually address each other with formalities unless it's for show," Jett explained after he thumped Malcolm in the back of the head after he had referred to Alfred as 'Your Majesty'. "Or if the Queen is in a particularly bad mood."

Alfred had then proceeded to slip into a shallow brook. Once he was out, they had to hurry to the camp, not wanting the King-to-be to catch a cold before they depart for the capital. He seemed to be more nervous about the Queen than being a King.

"Here we are, mates," Jett proclaimed as their group of four barreled through the becomings of a blizzard and into a the utopia of warmth and shelter that was their tent. He was pulling Alfred with him to find dry trousers that would fit him while Matthew joined Malcolm in feeding the fire in the center.

"You know, the tent we woke up in nearly twenty-four hours ago didn't have a fire, yet it was much warmer than this one," Matthew started as Jett let out a triumphant yell and threw a pair of dry trousers at Alfred. He gave him a displeased look but was pleased to have dry clothing.

"Those tents were magicked by Yao," Malcolm explained as their brothers joined them by the fire. "He made it so that the tents radiate warmth on the inside to match the coldness on the outside."

"Why doesn't he just do that to all the tents?" Matthew asked watching as Jett prepared hot soup for all of them.

"Jack Wang may be the oldest living thing in the planet, but even he isn't the best Spell-wielder in the four kingdoms, mate. It takes no small amount of skill, energy and talent; magic," Jett explained, filling four cups with soup.

Try as he might, Alfred couldn't hold back the snort that escaped him. He immediately covered it up by taking a swig from the scalding soup when Matthew gave him a cold stare. Alfred was a firm believer that magic was just an illusion criminally clever minds used to sucker a little more extra change from unsuspecting people. He pointedly ignored the memory of Yao _summoning _for them the previous night. _No way that was magic. It was a pretty traumatic day_—_we probably didn't notice when he put it there._

"You're a nonbeliever, aren't you, my King—I-I mean, _Alfred_," Malcolm quickly amended when Alfred nearly dropped his soup.

"You might wanna keep that little tidbit to yourself, Alfred," Jett laughed after throwing a glare at his younger brother. "We're Suits! Each and every single one of us can use magic and has an affinity to it."

"You're Suits as well?" Matthew asked, although not surprised for a reason. Alfred found it peculiar that he himself wasn't surprised with this new information.

"Now that hurts!" Jett exclaimed, grabbing his chest in feigning a stab wound. "You both live in the Eighth Province of Spades, and you don't even recognize your own Provincial Suit? That's cold, mates. That's cold."

The twins, although not surprised, did not know how to reply.

Luckily, Malcolm saved them from having to respond by waving to his brother and saying, "Jett Kirkland, the Eight of Spades, and I'm Malcolm Kirkland, Six of Spade, at your command."

Alfred fought down the grimace at the slight formality. Even something as simple as a joking allusion to his title was enough to make nausea bubble in his stomach."You two have this, uh, th-this….you know, I'm not quite sure how to put it. Like this _aura _about you that is somewhat similar to the Jack."

"That'd be the magic," Jett replied, finishing his soup before continuing. "Believer or not, you're going to get acquainted with magic sooner than later. Especially with Arthur as your Queen."

The soup that had been sitting comfortably in Alfred's stomach threatened to greet the air again. His vision blurred from tears and pushed down whatever tried to come up through his throat. Coughing and hacking filled the tent accompanied by thumps on his back. "Are you alright?" Matthew whispered from somewhere behind him.

Alfred rubbed his eyes then slid his hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm alright." _I'm lying. I'm not okay_—_how the hell am I supposed to deal with a Queen? You know exactly how my previous attempts with romancing females always went up in flames_—_wait._ "Did you say _Arthur?_"

Jett looked incredibly concerned. "Damn, you guys really are isolated—actually no, that doesn't make any sense. Seven centuries you two have been in this country, and you don't even know your own Queen?"

"I wasn't kidding when we didn't care for the business of Suits," Matthew defended as Alfred screamed internally.

"Anyways, Queen Arthur Kirkland," Malcolm offered, "is our cousin is known as the greatest Spell-wielder in all of Deck."

_He's a dude. Queen Arthur_—_a dude. Holy shit. The. Queen. Is. A. Dude. A dude!_

"He's also our cousin," Jett picked up the explanation. "Bit of a short-tempered prick that one. He may not look like much, but don't forget this: he's been running this country—doing the King's job on top of his own queenly duties—generations before you were born."

Before another thought crossed Alfred's mind, there was a rustle of fabric behind then. "First lesson in becoming a King: although you would have the highest authority in the entire nation, the final and ultimate decision would be the one that you and Arthur agree with."

As Yao explained Alfred's "first lesson", the four sitting around the fire scrambled to their feet. The Eight and Six bowed down to the Jack while Alfred and Matthew shuffled on their feet, not knowing what to do in the presence of the newcomer. If you have any questions about the Queen, you are welcome to come ask me. The Jack is, of course, the right hand of the Queen."

"What about the King?" Matthew questioned curiously. "Who is his—or her right hand?"

"That would be you, the Ace."

"Jack Wang," Malcolm voiced. "I had thought that we would not be departing until morning. That you would personally inform us, when the blizzard had passed, that we would be heading back to the castle."

"I'm afraid there has been a change of plans. The scouts have encountered another scouting party. It seems that the Heart Royals are on their way to the Spades capital as well." The Jack paused and looked thoughtfully towards his future King and Ace then turned to the other Suits. Alfred's stomach churned. "Prepare his Majesty's and the Ace's horses. It would be in our best diplomatic interest that the foreign Suits don't know of them just yet"

Before he could ask why he and his brother had to stay secret, Alfred found his pack in his arms and a dark black cloak that made him look anonymous. Matthew received the same objects then were steered by the Kirklands out into the cold.

* * *

Apparently, their identities being a secret applied to _anyone_, not just the Heart Royals. Under Yao's instructions, Matthew and Alfred were watched over by Jett and Malcolm. While they were free to converse with the people in the caravan, revealing their identities would only incite complications.

Matthew didn't particularly mind. Once he becomes the Ace, normal conversations would be a luxury of the past, so he savored it as much as he could. When we wasn't exchanging pleasantries with the people or trading stories with Malcolm or Jett, he worried about his brother.

Although Alfred would deny it with every fiber of his being, he had a hero complex. Matthew thought that his brother would be ecstatic with the idea of secret identities—even if it only lasted for a day or two. Instead, the usual epitome of a social butterfly was slouched on his horse with the scowl of an old vulture.

He had assumed that this strange behaviour was due to his impending kingship and the discovery of a male Queen. However, when his twin brother nearly slid off his horse, his worry increased tenfold.

"You're not okay," Matthew hissed as he and Jett steadied Alfred.

"I'm fine—stomach's acting up," Alfred slurred.

Up close, Matthew could see sweat beading his forehead and a strange paleness invading his tanned skin. "I know you—you could be asleep on that horse not fall off no matter the terrain. What is happening?"

"Don't know," Alfred grumbled.

Matthew turned to Malcolm. "Even just for a moment, Is there a possible way we could stop—?"

Alfred grabbed his arm. "No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" Matthew hissed. "If your stomach hurts, then sitting atop a moving horse is only making it worse. Not to mention you look dreadful."

"It'll be better once we're in the capital," Alfred said, straightening his posture in a fruitless attempt to comfort his brother.

"How does that make any sense?" Matthew returned, but he received no answer when Alfred's face turned into an alarming shade of green.

Once they were sure that Alfred did not need to stop and empty the few contents of his stomach, Matthew repeated his question to Malcolm.

"It could be his kingly intuition," the Six replied. "The King is the personification of the people of the kingdom after all, and the capital would be his heart. Although there aren't any crises in the capital, the situation isn't satisfactory to the people. That could be affecting his health."

"Will he get better?" Matthew asked worriedly.

"He's _your_ brother. You know better than anyone if he'll be alright."

Matthew took a moment to gather his thoughts. Alfred may be the openly protective of them, but by no means did that mean that he was more protective than Matthew. "He'll be alright. But how does he know that returning to the capital will alleviate whatever pains he's having?"

Six Kirkland shrugged. "The King needs his people as much as his people need him, I suppose. See, we Suits aren't born with these Insignias—just the characteristics; longevity, durability, intuition—but we aren't Signed by the Hand until we are ready to serve in our positions. You two were Signed two hundred years ago. It doesn't affect you as much, but to the King, the people are his entire being."

"I can't say that what you just said makes any sense," Matthew replied, shifting his gaze to where his brother was being carefully watched by Jett, "but I can't say that any of this makes sense either. I'm guessing it takes time to grow accustomed to this."

Malcolm chuckled. "It certainly does, but not as much as you think. You'll find yourself strangely comfortable living in the castle. You were meant to live there after all."

There was a moment of silence—not an awkward one, just a lack of topics to discuss. Unfortunately, in that silence, Matthew's worries about his brother only increased. _I need a distraction_. "What exactly is the job of the Suits as a whole?"

It was Jett who answered him. "Rule over the entire kingdom, of course! Well, there is a Council for each kingdom that creates major changes, but those changes aren't official without the approval of the all present Royals. We, as Suits, ensure that those decisions are in the best interest of the people. We don't involve ourselves with minor political squabbles unless the people need us to."

"And how do you know what the people's best interest would be?" Alfred asked. Apparently, Jett's loud exclamation was enough to distract him from whatever he was feeling. _Hand bless him_.

Jett dropped his voice, forcing Matthew and Malcolm to steer their horses closer. "It would just be a gut feeling, but as the King you would know exactly what the people are thinking and would be able to make the right decisions."

Green flooded Alfred's face again. _Nevermind._

Matthew rubbed his brother's back while Malcolm smacked his. The Six gave them an apologetic look. Another silence descended on the two pairs of brothers. An awkward one this time.

"So," Matthew offered, turning to Jett. "You mentioned that the, um—" he glanced at Alfred then whispered, "_Queen_ is your cousin."

"Yes, he and his brothers."

"Brothers?"

"That's right, mate. Arthur is the youngest son of the main branch of House Kirkland. When he was Signed, his elder brothers went through heaven and hell to make sure that they were in the Suit. They mean well, but they're assholes—don't tell them I said that—and unfortunately, you'll have to meet them."

"I mean no disrespect to the Queen nor House Kirkland, but, uh—did Arthur help them claim their ranks?" Matthew asked warily.

Jett looked offended for a second but quickly adopted his usual smile immediately. "Pardon me. I should really get used to that question."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any—"

"Nah, don't worry about it!" Jett smiled, slapping his shoulder. "At least you're asking the right questions. Anyways, many thought that was exactly what had happened, but he didn't. If anything, Arthur would probably have made it a lot harder for them—in the Kirkland family, there is no coddling, there is no shortcuts. That's the philosophy that's been trained into us for generations."

"The Kirkland brothers," Malcolm chimed in, "care a lot for each other. But if you ask them, they would deny it to their graves. The older they are, the more protective they get. That's why the elder three decided that they wanted to be in the Suit. To support Arthur even if he didn't need it."

"That's very nice, actually," Matthew said softly. He had no doubt that if he and Alfred were in that situation, they would do the same.

"Damn right it is," Jett sighed. "Just remember that when they seem like complete jackasses."

They rode for more hours. Matthew watched as the landscape changed from a mountain range to flat prairie. The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached a small forest. When he looked back, the mountains that Matthew knew to be home were a mere shadow, barely visible in the clouds that shrouded them.

Spades' capital city was relatively near the mountain range, its northern border with Clubs. There was a time last century were tensions between the northern Clubs and the Southern Spades were near a boiling point. Enough so, that the Spades feared an invasion. Matthew remembered several soldiers in their village which was closest to the border. He remembered that he and Alfred had led a group around the mountain, ensuring that crossing such an untamed and colossal mountain range was suicide. If the Clubs wanted to get into Spades, or vice versa, they would have to go around the mountains extending their march by nearly a month.

"Is Yao with the Heart Royals that he mentioned earlier?" Matthew asked. He usually had Alfred to thank for scaring away silences. His conversational skills need work.

"I believe so," Malcolm replied. "They would be somewhere in the front of the caravan. Which is why we are all the way in the end."

"Why is that?"

"Magical trace that you are so adamant in not believing," Jett answered.

Matthew chuckled nervously. Although he did not admit it, he shared his brother's disbelief of magic.

"Suits can sense each other," Malcolm explained. "The Queen rank is the best in sensing other Suits. For the King, it's sensing the people. The Jack; the Queen and the other Suits indirectly, and the Ace; the King and the people indirectly."

"What about the Numbered Suits?"

"We are sense our provinces. You Lettered Suits sense the nation as a whole while we focus on each of our little sections of the nation. We basically give the capital a more detailed sense of the nation's status."

"That doesn't explain why we are all the way back here," Alfred grumbled beside them, talking for the first time in hours. _Holy Hand, his voice has gotten hoarse. He needs help._

"Well, those senses extend to all Suits, not just the one for your respective kingdom," Jett explained as Matthew gave Alfred a flask water and ensured he drank all of it. "The two of you weren't surprised that when you found out we were Suits because you knew subconsciously. If you were to walk by the King Clubs or the Four of Diamonds, you would know immediately they were a Suit."

"But if the Queen rank is the most powerful in sensing other Suits," Alfred thought out loud, "wouldn't he or she still know that we are here?"

"That's what those magicked cloaks are for, Your Majesty," Jett answered, carefully watching Alfred.

The uncrowned King flinched and his Ace gave the Eight the glare of the century. "Forgive me, but you're going to have to get used to that. As soon as people find out who you are, they'll address you as that. You are the _highest_ authority of the nation after all."

"I rather you wait until I am crowned," Alfred nearly growled then returned to his pained silent before Jett could even nod.

Never before had Matthew seen his brother snap at anyone. Sure, there were times when he whined and complained about someone or something that he encountered. But Alfred absolutely _loathed_ making anyone uncomfortable. Even the most despicable man could stand before him and Alfred could still smile—albeit a sinister one—at him. _Something is really wrong with him…_

"So," Malcolm attempted to fill the silence, "did you know that the Spades Castle is also known as the Dragon's Stronghold?"

"Y-yes," Matthew answered distractedly, tearing his attention from Alfred. "I had heard that, although I never knew why. But I have a feeling that I'm about to find out."

The Six of Spades chuckled. "Well, the story begins long before the Suits Monarchy system was put in place by the Hand. The Land of Deck at that time was known as the Land of Chess, and it was ruled by two incredibly large and unbelievably powerful kingdoms known as Black and White. They were ruled by beings like us."

"You mean, immortal and have absolute authority over the land?" Matthew questioned, playing with his borrowed horse's red mane.

"Exactly, but they're way more powerful," Jett added. "There were legends of one Piece—that's what they were called as opposed to us Suits—that was so powerful that he single-handedly took down an entire invasion army with just a shield and a sword. Maybe there was some magic involved, but it happened long before even Yao was born. Details are very much blurry."

Matthew nodded then turned to Malcolm when the younger Kirkland continued his tale. "There was a war hundreds of thousands of years ago so fatal that the Hand himself had to interfere. He had apparently ended the war then split each country in half and stripped the Pieces of all their power."

"Did they become human?" Matthew asked, enthralled.

"Dunno," Jett answered. "All records of that time have either disappeared or been lost to time. What we do know was the many times that dragons were mentioned in the writings."

"Dragons?" Matthew gasped. He noticed Alfred turn his head slightly, listening to them.

"Yes, two of them," Malcolm picked up the story when a soldier called for his elder brother. "One for each of the Chess Kingdoms. They were rumored to be the center of the Pieces' powers."

"I'm guessing that one of the Chess castle used to be where the Dragon Stronghold stands now?"

Malcolm nodded. "The Spades capital used to be the White capital, and home to the White Dragon. It is said that beasts' magic still lingers in this land and has concentrated around certain people."

"The Suits?"

The Six shook his head. "Not necessarily. Remember, we aren't born Suits—we are born human. If the Hand sees potential in us, he Marks our souls, giving us immortality and an affinity to magic. When we are ready to serve the people, we are Signed."

"Are the dragons still around?" Matthew asked cautiously, trying to remember if he had heard anything about giant fire-breathing beasts from rumors.

"No, giant scaled monsters aren't exactly acceptable pets. It's called Dragon's Stronghold because it was their home in ancient history. Not anymore," Jett answered, galloping towards them and pointing towards the horizon. "And speaking of which, there it is."

* * *

**Yeahhhh that's a lot of dialogue. Anyways, I really like how this story is progressing and I hope you guys do too. Please review! :3**


	7. Chapter 7 - Known and Unknown

**This one has a lot of dialogue too but has some necessary world-building stuff.**

**Sorry for the late update! Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

"_The foes that are unseen are often stronger than those that are seen"_—Edward Counsel

* * *

**Known and Unknown**

When King Beilschmidt had sent the Queen and a handful of soldiers to announce their party to the Spades caravan traveling down the mountains, Feliciano insisted through chattering teeth and miserable sniffing to accompany them. Imagine his surprise when Ludwig refused this request. _Stubborn._

Although the season was transitioning into winter, the Hearts capital city enjoyed warm temperatures and cool, breezy nights as it sat atop the largest island in the nation's eastern archipelago. And it was in that golden sunny warmth that Feliciano longed to be. Not in the pre-winter blizzards of the Spades-Clubs mountain range border.

A particularly large sneeze pushed itself out of Feliciano, leaving the Jack even more miserable.

"Hand bless you, aru," the Spades Jack's automatic response came from across the carriage.

Feliciano nodded his thanks to his fellow rank then pulled Ludwig's cloak tighter around him. For some reason that eludes Feliciano, the cold didn't seem to affect the King as much as it did him. Ludwig _radiated _heat beside him, and it took a good amount of Feliciano's willpower not snuggle against him.

Amber eyes gazed at the blue and red flags flapping wildly even though they had long left the blizzard behind. Feliciano muttered a chant that recharged the warming charm in their carriage. He wished that he could give the same comfort to those outside but the carm required an enclosed space. He had ordered all his men to distribute every single available article of clothing so that everyone had the most layers available to them. The warmth the layers provided were nothing to a warming charm, but Feliciano hoped that it helped the others somehow.

The wind still howled after them as they descended into the plains below. It wasn't until they reached those plains that the howls died down and allowed the Royals to converse.

"...received the message from Queen Kirkland. It seems my brother has been causing trouble," Feliciano heard Ludwig start.

The Jack of Spades let out a world-weary sigh. "You'll have to forgive us—it would seem that we were inadequate in securing the Red Joker—"

Jack Wang silenced himself when King Beilschmidt raised a hand. "There is nothing to forgive—we took a chance with the Jokers. We prepared whatever we could with our capabilities, and it has been proven to be lacking. I had already informed Queen Kirkland of the situation, and, hopefully, we can take care of this situation and return to our usual business of running countries. I have no idea what the Jokers have planned, but I doubt it's anything good."

"My apologies. I have been under a priority mission. I am under the assumption that the Queen will not want to interrupt the assignment," Yao explained. "Could you reiterate what you informed Queen Kirkland with?"

Ludwig let out a sigh. A quick flicker of his eyes showed Feliciano that the King had slouched slightly. He was slightly surprised at the anomaly in his usual stiff and proper attitude. Feliciano found that he couldn't blame him—he couldn't imagine what state he would be in if Romano was a Joker. And an escaped one at that.

As the King and Queen of Hearts informed the Jack of Spades of the situation with Black Joker Kirkland and the events of the day before yesterday, Feliciano let the memories and worries flood back to him. The death of the Lieutenant was alarming on it's own—made even more so with a Black Burn indicating the Insignia of the King of Spades. As concerning as those events were, a completely different matter plagued the Jack of Hearts.

_Why is Feli covered in mud?_

Big brother Antonio wasn't exactly quiet when he voiced to question to Lovino. He was thankful that his brother merely shrugged it off and cursed at Antonio until the man left to secure his province. As soon as Feliciano had left the dungeons, he immediately changed and disposed of his muddied clothing. _It was just a dream_. It had to be. But Ten Carriedo said it himself—there was no possible way he couldn't have dirtied his clothes during the short walk from the conference hall to the dungeons. How could something that occurred in a dream affect the physical world?

The village. The cobblestone bridge. The Edelstein Manor. These places were not fiction. Feliciano had seen them on a daily base for nearly a century before he and his brother became disciples in Deck's Holy Temple, the House of Cards. But, try as he might, the memory of the blonde boy kept slipping from his grasp. Even then, as he listened to his King and Queen explain the evidence they found of the Joker's escape, Feliciano could not recall the details of the boy's face.

"Perhaps the escapes were related—although I am not quite sure how," Kiku voiced, reeling his Jack into the conversation.

Yao sighed tiredly, pressing the long robes of his sleeve against his face before replying. "The escapes occurred within days of each other. I don't believe that to be a coincidence. On the other had, aru, I also don't believe that it is possible to travel from the Dragon's Stronghold to the Sundrop Keep in such a time."

Enchanting oneself or one's horse to travel faster can be easily accomplished by the most tender footed of novice Spell-wielders. Powerful ones such as the Jack from the Heart and Spade Kingdoms could enchant an entire caravan—their combined power allowed their current journey of a week to be cut down to a day. But even they couldn't shorten the month-long trip between their capitals to mere days.

"Such a journey could be managed through Rune Travel," Feliciano chimed, straightening himself. "However, I don't believe that the Red Joker would be capable of performing such a ritual."

Yao nodded. "Certainly not, especially since he has been imprisoned for nearly a millennia."

"There is also the fact that the Red Joker was not a Spell-wielder," Kiku added. "Besides, the little magical affinity he had would have been suppressed by the lock. And with the amount of time that he has been restrained, it would take a month for the effect to wear off."

"The Red Joker may not be a Spell-wielder, but the Black Joker might be," Feliciano thought out loud.

"But he has not demonstrated such power," Yao countered.

"Whether the main branch of House Kirkland recognizes him as their youngest or not, the Black Joker is related to the greatest Spell-wielder in history by blood," Feliciano stated firmly. "The brothers' affinity for magic is great and they grow stronger with each generation, but Queen Arthur Kirkland was the only one to follow the path of the Spell-wielders. What I am saying is this: Joker Peter _Kirkland _has the potential to be a Spell-wielder as great as Arthur if not greater."

"Decades of dedicated study is required to be Spell-wielder along with the most knowledgeable of texts and teachers, neither of which the Black Joker had access to in the entirety of his imprisonment," Kiku pointed out then turned to the Jack of Spades. "What do you think Queen Kirkland would say about this?"

Yao thought for a moment. "As Jack Vargas mentioned previously—the Black Joker is a Kirkland. Living with the elder brothers for centuries showed that they are a stubborn, ambitious and determined bunch. I have no doubts that Peter would the same. Rune Travel is very simple in theory, but very complicated—nearly impossible in fact—in practice. Four and a half centuries in a cell is a very long time, and if he's clever like my Queen, well, he's had plenty of time to explore a certain extent of his abilities."

_He was only fifty when imprisoned?_ Feliciano thought in shock. Of course he was present when the Black Joker was brought into the Heart's capital, the Sundrop Keep, but it had not occurred to him how young Peter was at the time. _We practically imprisoned an infant!_

There was a heavy silence. There was no point to pursue the matter any longer without Queen Kirkland present. He was closest to the Black Joker after all. Yao made a comment to Feliciano about removing the Acceleration Enchantment from the caravan once they neared the capital city limits before they descended to a tense silence once more.

Once the rocky terrain became smoother from the city traffic and the Jacks removed the enchantment, the King of Hearts cleared his throat. "This Rune Travel method you speak of...could you explain the theory to me? I doubt explanation of the practice would do any good for me."

"Oh, it's very easy, Luddy!" Feliciano answered. "Basically, an experienced caster can etch a particular symbol into two runic areas—which is basically a place laden with powerful magic with minimal interference from nature. He or she can then travel between the two places as long as the rune they etched is still there."

"They can travel between the two places as much as they want?" asked Ludwig.

This time, it was Yao who answered. "Not exactly, your Majesty. The more you travel, the more the rune is worn down and the shorter it lasts. Also, the runic areas are very rare. In fact, the only ones in existence are the four castles and the House of Cards."

"The runes don't last very long either," Kiku added. "The longest that one has lasted was almost a month."

The King nodded and pondered this information as the Spades' capital city grew closer. "What were you doing up in the mountains, Yao? It was unpleasantly cold there—I doubt it was for sight-seeing," Feliciano asked curiously.

The other three royals flinched. "_Feliciano!_" Ludwig hissed.

"Ve?" Jack Vargas asked curiously. _DId I say something wrong?_

"You certainly do not have to answer that, Jack Wang," Kiku said hurriedly for some reason. "Whatever business you had in the mountains is certainly _none_ of ours."

Yao smiled vaguely then waved Kiku's hurried claim away. "A very important friend of the Queen's has unexpectedly passed away, leaving behind two sons. The Queen himself would have fetched them, but situations in the castle require his presence."

Jack Vargas did not understand the staring contest between his Queen and the Jack of Spades. However, he and Ludwig became very uncomfortable from the animosity from the two. The tension continued to build until the King cleared his throat. "Jack Wang."

Yao matched Kiku's stare for a moment longer before flashing a plastered smile to the King. "Yes?"

"You are the most knowledgeable of all the Suits thanks to the many years you have lived. I understand that you will be reaching ten thousand soon?"

"Yes, King Beilschmidt. How very kind of you for remembering, aru. Is there something you wish to ask?"

Ludwig nodded. "The Jokers. Each of the Suits have a general idea about nature—actually, that's more of an exaggeration. All I know about them is that they are chaotic in nature, and that my brother is one of them. Do you know anything more about them?"

Yao straightened himself and the atmosphere in the carriage turned serious as it did with historical problems that most of the Suits had yet to experience. "In all the years I have lived and governments I have served, the information we have about our natures as the Suits of the Four Kingdoms of Deck is shamefully lacking. And we know even less about the Jokers. What we do know is that we are surprisingly similar. They too are chosen by Hand and are Marked. However, they are not Signed. As you know, we are Marked at birth, meaning we have the inane abilities of Suits. However, the act of being Signed by Hand means that we are ready to serve the country with the Insignia he has placed on our bodies."

"Do you believe that the Jokers and Suits are related to one another?" Queen Honda asked.

"Yes, and quite literally," Yao answered. "Both Jokers are brothers to known Suits. But the Jokers are also chosen in a similar matter. In fact, the only difference between the Jokers and the Suits are the Insignia's claiming our power."

"Are you implying that the Jokers are rejected candidates for Suits?" Feliciano piped. There was a thought that nagged in the back of mind. Something to do with the blond boy plaguing his dreams…

"Whether they are rejects or replacements are up for debate," Yao corrected then held up a hand to silence whatever it enraged outburst was about to escape the King. "Forgive me, King Beilschmidt, but I believe that this conversation will be best continued in the meeting. Have you made a decision on whether you will call the meeting of Deck?"

Ludwig lifted his crown and ran a hand through his hair before returning it to its swept back style. "Your Queen should be able to inform you of the details. I do not wish to make any assurances that could change. I had given Arthur my confirmation, but the details of the meeting and whether it will take place or if he has changed his mind is up to him."

"I see. Thank you very much for thoughtfulness," Yao replied, bowing slightly on his seat.

"I would, however," King Beilschmidt added, "disclose details of the Black Joker's escape that we have if you could please tell me details of the Red Joker's escape. You were the one to find his empty cell, _ja?_"

The Jack of Spades inspected Ludwig's face, golden eyes analyzing the King's expression. "Normally, I would not disclose such details in an insecure place especially without the approval of my Queen."

"I _insist_ that you do, Jack Wang," Ludwig commanded, almost threateningly.

There was an incredibly heavy silence that made Feliciano whimper quietly before the Spades man let out a chuckle. "No worries, I had every intention to, your Majesty. It concerns someone in your direct family after all."

Ludwig shifted uncomfortably beside Feliciano's trembling frame. He may have the highest rank and the most power in the Hearts carriage, but to Jack Vargas, it felt as if it was the Jack of Spades who was in control. Such was the power of the ancient. Feliciano resisted the sudden urge to slip his hand in Ludwig's. _Ve, where did that come from? I learned a long time ago that he hated holding hands no matter how adorable he was when flustered. I stopped wanting to hold his hand a long time ago…_

"During the time, I was on my way to a nearby province when I felt something..._strange_. I would normally have ignored it, but it came again and that time it was something magical and it felt serious. The first thought that occurred to me as I turned my horse around was to alert Queen Kirkland, but with the situation the castle was in, I doubted any of the Suits, including Arthur, would have taken the time to check what it was the ailed me."

"I take it that the magical disturbance that you felt was the destruction of the Joker's lock?" Kiku asked.

"Yes, but, unfortunately, I did not realize that until it was far too late."

"But," Feliciano piped, "if it was a magical matter, wouldn't the other Suits have noticed? I'm surprised that Arthur didn't notice."

"Please understand, Arthur does not want anything to do with the Jokers. The shock of his brother as the Black Joker was a bit much for him. Arthur does not forget nor _let go_ easily—even after centuries. He has left all matters of the detainment of the Joker to me and me alone. The other Spell-wielders in our Suit are Numbered. They spent more time outside the castle than in and would not have been any help."

"When you found the Joker's cell empty, what did you find?" Ludwig asked rather hurriedly.

"Only a strong magical presence. The Joker didn't bring anything with him in, when we detained him, or out, when he escaped. All of his possessions were left behind in the cell, which has not been disturbed since the I found the cell. You are welcome to inspect the scene yourself once we arrive."

When the King of Hearts nodded his acknowledgement, the Queen barraged the Jack of Spades with questions. They were menial questions, no doubt the information will be repeated in the meeting. Feliciano took this chance to gaze out the carriage window once more.

The golden plains of the Spades countryside had long given way to the structures of human inhabitation. The soft thuds of the horses' hooves turned to loud clops as cobblestone replaced the dirt roads. The others in the carriage quieted down when the wheels began to rattle loudly and the ride became a bit more bumpy.

Outside, small homes were scattered over harvested farmlands. They passed by a wagon distributing chopped wood around to families and another selling furs. Winter was on its way and the Spades citizens were preparing themselves.

Feliciano, unconsciously scooting closer to Ludwig's warmth, remembered the first and last time that he visited the Dragon's Stronghold in winter. It was several decades ago when he accompanied his Queen to a meeting with the Spades Royalty. The trip itself wasn't memorable, nor was the purpose of it—probably just some alliance business. But what Feliciano did remember was that Spade winter was nearly as bad as Club's winter only windier, and the bitter resentment between Queen of Hearts and the Jack of Spades.

Stealing a glance at the objects of his musings, Jack Vargas couldn't help but wonder how well the two of them really got along. Sitting across from them, they didn't seem to have any bad blood between them, and they certainly did well in hiding any of it. But this was the oldest and the second oldest beings in the entire world—they are masters at being unreadable. Feliciano had once asked Kiku what qualms he and Yao had against each other. The only reply he received was that it was personal and that it would not affect the business of Suits or his ability to rule as Queen of Hearts.

The Dragon's Stronghold was exactly as Feliciano had remembered it to be. To an outsider like him, the Spades' capital city was just a labyrinth of stone walls and bridges ascending towards the castle. It was surprisingly spacious with the amount of people that lived there—Spades was the most populated kingdom and consequently had the most populated capital. Crystal clear water flowed through the canal systems that interlocked with the roads and spouted out the plaza fountains.

The castle sat atop the city like a colossal crown of silver with a bluish tint thanks to the sapphires embedded to its wall foundation. The gems gave the castle a brilliant shine with the right amount of sunlight. But Feliciano knew there they, like the rubies in the walls of Sundrop Keep, had another reason.

_Magic._

Gems had enhancing properties towards magical spells. And with a Spell-wielder of Queen Kirkland's caliber and a scholar of Jack Wang's stature, the Dragon's Stronghold will go down in history as the most impenetrable bastion this world has ever seen.

"There are more people out and about," Kiku observed then turned to the blue royal. When Yao did not reply, all attention was turned towards him. The Jack of Spades was rendered speechless. Golden eyes were wide in surprise as he gazed at his subjects.

"Yao?" Ludwig called, concerned.

The ancient man opened his mouth then closed it again, eyes never straying from his people. "They-they're—it's been so long since I've seen so many smiles…"

To the Suit, nothing is more important than the safety and happiness of their people. It is the one thing that they will prioritize over all other roles. There've been rumors—ones that the Suits have pointedly ignored—about the impossibility of marriage since their first love would always be the people they serve.

In Spades, as far as Feliciano heard from reports as well as his sparse stopovers, the people haven't been content. In his past visitations, there were barely any citizens wandering about and close to zero smiles.

Looking at them now felt like a switch has been flipped. More and more people were nearly swarming the plazas and the chatter grew festive, as if they were all simultaneously celebrating their birthdays. Shopkeepers were calling to the crowd in hopes of sales. Men and women clapped shoulders and embraced, basking in the sun. Children chased each other around their parents and pulled all sorts of shenanigans.

"Jack Wang!"

Outside Feliciano's window, the four royals found Eight Kirkland pushing his horse to catch up with the carriage. Ludwig barked an order for the driver to slow down to allow Jett to gallop to them.

"Forgive me for interrupting, Lords and Majesties." The hurried formality was waved away by Yao who urged the man to spit out whatever it was that he came for. "But one of our, uh, _guests_, has fainted."

"Which one of them?"

"The, um, louder one…?"

Now, Feliciano was very concerned for this person. Falling off a horse—_I hope they've put him on a wagon or carriage_—was not a pleasant experience especially when one wasn't feeling well. However, the Jack of Spades didn't seem concerned about his guest. In fact, he seemed delighted to hear the news.

"You...don't seem worried, Yao." Even the King was confused.

Yao let a smile spread on his lips before replying to the Eight. "Have Six Kirkland bring him and his brother to the Castle Infirmary immediately. Meanwhile, inform the Queen of the arrival of our _guests_."

"Will your friend be okay?" Feliciano asked, watching in concern as the Eight disappeared somewhere behind them. When he returned his gaze to the man sitting across from him, he was surprised to find that the ancient man had a genuinely happy yet relieved smile on his face. He wouldn't be surprised if the man started crying tears of joy.

"His fainting is a good thing, aru," Yao replied, practically glowing. "A very good thing."

* * *

"Ace Vargas, you have summoned for me?" Nine Herakles Karpusi announced, his voice echoing in the small chamber. The Ace didn't even look up from the desk he was hunched over as he waved for the newcomer to approach.

As soon as the Royals had left for the Spades capital, Lovino and Antonio returned to the dungeons and investigated the scene thoroughly. The King had given them total authority over the situation as well as orders for a daily report be sent to them via wisp. Hours in to the repeated investigation, and by a stroke of luck, the Ace found a sliver of a very important clue.

It was a miniscule amount of magical trace different from the his, his brother's, and the escaped Joker. He immediately sealed a sample of all the traces then quickly headed to the library. Once there, he settled down and summoned the Herakles, second behind his brother as the most knowledgeable in the magical arts in Hearts.

"Here." Lovino handed him the parchment containing the sealed traces. "Tell me who these traces—which were found on Lieutenant Zuruck's body—belong to."

Herakles raised an eyebrow before accepting the parchment. With the Royals on an out-of-country business trip, the Ace was highest ranking. Disobeying him would have been disrespectful, and technically against the law, but Nine Karpusi was more concerned about the fit Ace Vargas would throw if he refused.

Lovino watched as Herakles inspected parchment and mumbled out the identities of the traces. "I see...you and your brother having the most prominent traces here...as well as the unknown one somewhat similar to a certain Spades family…"

"That would be the Black Joker's," Lovino grunted returning his attention to the tome he had picked out earlier. It was a detailed volume concerning magical traces and their effects on a spell. _Tch, nothing useful here._

"There is another one I am supposed to be identifying, isn't there?"

"Try bringing it closer to your face—have your nose practically touching it." _If that tomato bastard hadn't bumped into me, I never would have noticed._

Herakles shrugged and did as the Ace told. Lovino waited a moment before the Nine's surprised brown eyes flickered towards him. "The King's…?"

"That's what I had thought as well. But he, like the rest of the Suit, was in that godforsaken meeting during the time of the murder. There's no possible way that he could have done it," Lovino sighed.

"No," Herakles confirmed keeping his eyes focused on the parchment. "King Beilschmidt has no motive to kill one of his subjects. None of the Suits have given any inclination for disloyalty for the people."

"Then whose trace is that?"

When Herakles said nothing, Lovino stood and approached him with his hand held out. The parchment was handed to him. "Do we have a sample of the King's magical trace to compare this to?"

Herakles shook his head. "As you know, there are two kinds of Suits: Spell-wielders and Combat Mages. We Spell-wielders are more magical inclined and, with practice and discipline, perform any spell they wish."

"And Combat Mages are those who have limited magical abilities and usually stick to low level magic like enhancing themselves during combat," Lovino finished irritatedly. "I'm well aware of that fact as well as the one where the only possible way that the King's trace could have gotten on the victim is if the potato bastard attacked him in close range fight."

Herakles took the parchment from Lovino and held it under great scrutiny . "I believe we are mistaken, Ace Vargas."

"Oh? In what, exactly?"

"In our assumptions. This trace is too...magically inclined or concentrated to belong to a Combat Mage like the King. In fact, this magical trace could be bigger than the Jack's, your brother's."

"How…?"

Herakles turned the parchment towards the Ace. "Your traces covered up a significant amount of the unknown trace. Although, it is strange that the same thing didn't happen to the Joker's trace."

"Wait a second. What are you going on about now?" Lovino ground out.

"Most powerful magical traces can't be covered up by other magical traces. However, it is possible for it to happen if it's a very old trace."

"So, we are looking for someone whose magical capabilities are on par with the Spell-wielders of the Suits who has been in contact with the Lieutenant for how long exactly?"

The Nine took a moment to ponder the Ace's questions then placed his palm on the parchment. Herakles muttered an incantation then sighed worriedly. "This magical trace is powerful enough to compete with the Queen of Spades himself. I hypothesize that the victim has met this person several times for this kind of trace, but I won't be certain of that until I see the body."

"Any ideas as to why it feels like the King's trace?"

"My guess is that it belongs to someone who is related—"

"The Red Joker?" Lovino interrupted.

Before the Royals departed, they disclosed the news from Queen Kirkland of Spades of the escape of Gilbert Beilschmidt, Red Joker and King Beilschmidt's older brother. _To travel from the Dragon's Fortress to here in such little time...it's not possible…maybe Rune Travel but even that's a far cry..._

Herakles shook his head. "I believe not—unless the King has an identical twin brother. The traces are too similar for them to be just brothers, but different enough to not be the same person. But..."

"But what?"

"Pending on how old this trace is, it is possible for it to have been tampered with. In fact, that's the theory I am leaning towards"

"Wait. Wait a second," Lovino growled pinching the bridge of his nose. "So it can be anyone's trace that's been altered to identified to be the King's? That's possible?"

"It's an extremely difficult and dangerous process, made even more so since whomever is responsible is targeting a King," Herakles sighed, handing the parchment back to Lovino. "However, as aforementioned, I won't be able to provide more concrete facts without inspecting the actual body. Do I have your permission to do so?"

Ace Vargas held up a finger. "One more question before you go: is it possible to store someone's magical trace? Like in a special container or something? There is that seal I'm currently using, but that'll only last a few more minutes at best."

Herakles raised an eyebrow. "I have not heard of such a way. I will have to research this matter before I can give you a confident answer."

Lovino grumbled his thanks then dismissed Nine Karpusi with a wave. As much as he disliked his King, he trusted him enough not to harm anyone of his innocent citizens—it was the purpose of their existences after all.

Ace Vargas ran a hand through his dark brown hair frustratingly and read over his notes. The Lieutenant was killed two hours before the messenger burst into their meeting. The cause of death was the cut throat—quick and merciful. However, the evidence left behind on the body complicated things tenfold especially the Black Burn in the shape of the nonexistent Spades King's Insignia and a trace resembling the King of Hearts.

_What kind of egoistic bastard has the gall to think that he has what it takes to challenge the two kings of the Major Suits?_

* * *

**Sorry for the late update everyone! Anyone ready for the gravity Falls Hiatus end today? Can't wait to learn about the Stans' past and asdkjfasldkfjakdhfadasdf**

**(I'm gonna start doing this now XD) Next Chapter: To Be a Brother**

**Please review! :D**


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